


Luz Noceda's Middle Name

by dekompensation



Category: The Owl House (Cartoon)
Genre: Amity is cursed (not really), Amity likes charts, Comedy, Edric is... we love Edric anyway, Emira is rich, F/F, Gay Disaster Amity Blight, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Light-Hearted, Lumity, Luz is a hero, M/M, Romantic Comedy, luz is oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 46,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28217130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dekompensation/pseuds/dekompensation
Summary: Five times Amity tries to guess Luz’s middle name and one time she doesn’t have to.Or, the story of how Luz and Amity’s relationship ignites and lasts into the happily-ever-after. Of course, with Edric and Emira always being there to help, it’s a very, very bumpy ride.
Relationships: Amity Blight/Luz Noceda, Edric Blight/Jerbo, Emira Blight/Viney
Comments: 189
Kudos: 502





	1. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a year, and Amity is still crushing on Luz, Luz is still oblivious, and the twins are still a damn nuisance. Luz is trying to figure out Amity’s crush, and Amity is trying to figure out Luz’s middle name. Amity is very good at Spanish. (No, she isn’t.)

“I want to know more about you.”

 _Not_ the thing Amity wants to hear from her crush. Actually, no, that’s _exactly_ the thing Amity wants to hear from her crush. Because knowing her better would entail more time spent together, and more time spent with Luz would entail eventual kisses. At least that’s what books and social media have taught her.

And yet, Amity is doomed to forever remain unkissed. Because Amity is cursed. 

Yes, she, the top student at Hexside ( _take that, Emira!_ ), the descendant of The Blights — one of the richest families in the Boiling Isles (her parents rotting in jail for plotting for the ex-Emperor is beside the point), the most athletic fifteen-year-old ever (excluding her friend Willow) — and she just _had_ to be stricken with the most ancient curse of them all.

The curse of being a flustered mess around her crush, Luz Noceda, the human.

The crush in question is smiling at her, and Amity is drowning in the brown of her eyes. Yes, she knows the ocean is purple, but that’s still a fitting metaphor, seeing how Luz’s eyes are beautifully deep. Even though she herself can sometimes be very shallow. Like two months ago, _just_ after Amity congratulated her and the Owl Crew ( _The Owl Gang?_ ) on their successful coup. And Luz said “Thank you, Ames, you’re such a good friend!”

And now this extra-dense, extra-beautiful, extra-resourceful, extra-strong, extra-smart human is smiling at her and saying she wants to know more about her, Amity, the cursed witch.

What could she possibly reply?

“Thanks! I know a lot about me!” Amity boasts.

_Okay, definitely NOT that._

Luz laughs, and Amity knows she would murder innocents if that meant hearing Luz laugh again. _Then again, all it takes is saying ‘fart”, and Luz already laughs for half a minute. Every single time._

“Yes, but I mean, we’ve been friends for over a year, and I wanna learn more about your preferences.” 

The human’s smile is intoxicating, and Amity’s mind is reeling. Now, what can she possibly say to _that_?!

“I prefer girls, black tea, and long walks at the beach!” Amity blurts out.

_Okay, dammit, NOT that. NOT. That._

“Oh!” Luz is grinning now as she plops down on the ground next to the green-haired witch. “That’s nice to hear! I also like long walks at the beach and black tea! I like boys, but I like girls as well. But you know all of that. 

“And I wanna know you. Did you dye your hair yesterday? It looks fresh and very pretty!” The human runs her fingers through Amity’s hair while the slightly-older witch is trying to register the array of words streaming from her friend’s mouth.

Amity’s parents always made her dye her hair green, so, naturally, Amity hated green. Luz loves her hair green, so, naturally, Amity loves green. She’s owning the look like the twins suggested. And she’s owning this tree that she’s sitting beneath. No one is allowed to share her little space. Of course, apart from Luz.

“ _You_ are pretty!” Amity whispers, putting her book aside.

“You’re also pretty!” Luz exclaims cheerfully as she scoots closer to beetroot-coloured Amity. “You’re the prettiest friend of all my friends!”

_I should ask Lilith to prohibit using the word ‘friends’ when talking to someone who’s crushing on you. She’s the Empress now, surely she can outlaw that._

“But I really do wanna learn more about this pretty girl here!” Luz pokes Amity’s cheek, and Amity knows she’s not gonna wash this cheek tonight. _Or ever._ “So, since we are what we like — I think that’s how the expression goes — I wonder what you like?”

That is _not_ how the expression goes, and Amity has no idea what to say to that.

“I like you.”

_NOT THAT! Anything BUT that!!_

“Aww, I like you too, Ames!” Luz throws her arms around the younger witch and wraps her into a hug. “You’re an amazing person with a great personality!”

 _If I die,_ Amity thinks, _let this be my resting place._ And then, _I wonder if she’s growing denser by the day or by the week._

“I’m sorry if I’m being too pushy,” Luz says suddenly, breaking the embrace, and Amity feels the devastating coldness of Luz’s arms not being around her back. “It’s just that you know a lot about me because I blabber all the time—”

“No, no!” Amity waves her hand in the most fake manner imaginable and snorts out a laugh to match. “It’s okay, you don’t.”

Luz likes turtles. She likes all animals, even if they are disgusting, like sewer rats, which she calls ‘surrets’. Luz has twenty-eight apps on her scroll, and she never deletes any. She also finds it hard to use the scroll with one hand and complains when she drops it. She uses lavender shampoo and no fragrance. She likes Amity’s fragrance. She thinks that five minutes of sleep in the morning are equal to five hours of sleep at night. She is sure that avocados are supposed to be healthy, but only if you eat them in the morning. Luz is pretty. Luz is funny. Luz is gorgeous. 

Amity knows all of that, not in the least because Luz _does_ blabber all the time. Amity made a chart with all the information about Luz. And she hopes, sincerely, that it isn’t too creepy.

“I also know a lot about Willow and Gus,” the brunette continues, “but you are so shy and flustered, and while I find it sweet, I don’t really know much about you.”

“Um.” Amity legitimately doesn’t know what to say, and she only hopes to attain a coherent response. _Titan, that’s all I’m asking for._ “What would you like to know?” she musters. _Yes! Thank you!_

Luz pokes her chin. Amity loves that the human pokes her chin instead of rubbing it. “Well, what’s your favourite colour?”

“You,” the witch blurts out. “I mean, blue!”

Luz furrows her brow. “Oh, I kind of thought it was purple.”

“Yes.” Of course it’s purple, but how does Luz know about it?

“Oh, so it _is_ purple!” Luz beams with happiness. “I knew it, because I know most of your stickers have purple in them, your favourite highlighter is purple because you use it only for the _most_ important parts— Sorry, does that sound weird?”

“No,” Amity mouths in awe. Has Luz really been paying this much attention to her? _Come on, she probably just pays about as much attention to Willow and Gus and all her friends._ “It sounds wonderful.”

The bell screams and Luz springs to her feet. “Well, gotta go to my extra-curriculum. Doing all tracks is no easy task!” She grins and waves at the other girl. “I am _so_ looking forward to spending more time with you!”

Amity can’t take it anymore. Watching the human bounce away, the witch reaches into her bag, fishes out her diary, and begins to write the next entry.

_Dear Diary,_

_Once again, Luz and her luscious lips have rendered me a simpleton._

_______________

  
  


“Hey, guys, can I ask you a question?”

Amity realises her words fall on deaf ears, because no one calls back. The teenage witch sighs, takes off her shoes and looks in the mirror. She’s already through with the effects of the curse: no longer blushing, her face calm, her forehead no more sweaty than usual. 

She walks through the corridor, picking up the sign that apparently fell off the wall. Amity fixes it up with a smile: 

_‘Enter at your own risk!_

_Hugs and kisses,_

_The Blights’_

_Only Edric could think of something this ridiculous._ To think about it, Edric is nowhere to be seen. Then again, the house is pretty big, what with the four bedrooms and a giant living room with an open kitchen — which, to be fair, is the size of an average apartment in Bonesborough. _Ed must be in his room._

Emira, on the other hand, is lounging on the sofa in the living room. Ever since they had moved out of the mansion which held way too many painful memories for the siblings (and way too much market value, Emira would add), the living room has become the main space where the older sister would spend her time.

The carpet is pristine, the little black table is clean, yet overfilled with scrolls, and the sofa itself is impeccable — which means that Emira is nervous. Every time her sister is nervous, Amity has noticed, she furiously cleans up every surface, then gets to work — no less furiously.

And, indeed. Emira is tapping on her scroll with such force that Amity wonders if she will break the enchanted screen.

“Um, Em? Hi, everything all right?”

Only now does Amity realise that the older witch, still in her business suit — well, sans the jacket — is nodding her head, which means she’s listening to music. _I hate this new Illusion Streaming — only those with Illusions training can see the damn thing, and it’s annoying as hell._

Still, knowing what’s going on, she approaches Emira and tugs on her trousers. When that has no desired effect, she starts pulling off one of her sister’s socks. 

Emira yelps and rolls around, dismantling the music-providing illusion with a swift spell. “What the— Mittens, can’t you see I’m busy?!”

However, Emira’s stern expression immediately softens as she sees Amity’s turmoil and her eyes well with sisterly understanding. “Sorry, Mittens. It’s just been a rough day, and it doesn’t help that these business people don’t take seventeen-year-olds seriously.”

“I’m sorry, Em.” Amity opens up her arms. “Hug?”

It’s a great custom between the three of them. With all the constant teasing and pranking and being generally annoying, they needed something genuine that would set the mood. Asking for hugs has turned out to be the perfect mood-changer. Every time one of them will ask their sibling for a hug, they’re in sibling-mode. Amity knows this and never abuses the power of hugs.

Breaking the embrace, the little sister looks around. “I, um, wanted to ask you a question, but if you—” 

“Nah, it’s okay, just business as usual,” Emira’s grin does not look very believable. “I’m okay, what’s up, Mittens?”

Amity scans the giant living room again, as if Edric could be hiding behind one of the many lamps set against the walls for more illumination in the evenings. Actually, to think about it, Edric could very well be hiding behind a lamp. It wouldn’t be his first time doing that. Or even the tenth time. 

“I wanted to talk to both of you, actually. Is Ed around?”

“Edric is in time-out,” Emira hisses with a glare at the eldest Blight’s closed door — which is a feat, considering it’s on the second floor, but Emira manages to pierce the ceiling with her gaze at the precise spot. “He’s being punished.”

“Um, Em... Mom and Dad punishing us for everything is the reason for most of our issues,” Amity tries, slightly taken aback at how simply her sister continues munching on her pop-corn ( _human treats are the best_ ), without so much as a second glance.

“He was wasting money again,” Emira counters, putting her scroll aside. “It’s been a year since our parents are gone and their fortune is legally ours. And we’ve already spent three million snails just between the three of us.”

Amity shrugs, not seeing much of a problem. “Yes, but it’s to be expected. We finally have the freedom to live our lives. Of course we’re gonna spend a little here and there.”

“Out of these three million,” Emira grumbles, “two million nine hundred thousand is Ed’s expenditure.” 

The older girl groans in exasperation, and Amity legitimately feels bad for her now. Without their parents, the resourceful seventeen-year-old has been managing their finances for over a year, and, honestly, she has been amazing at being the new head of the family.

“I just don’t want us to end up wasting everything!” Emira explains, her green hair dishevelled — only now does Amity notice that Emira does not exactly look well-rested. “Ed and I are about to graduate and, well, it’s gonna be a tough year for us. We were prepared for Covens, but, with the system abolished, we’ll have to find actual jobs.”

Amity sits next to her sister, putting her head on Emira’s shoulder. It calms down the older witch instantly — it always has. “Em, you two are actual billionaires. The daily allowance you give me is higher than the average monthly salary. I don’t think you need to worry about work,” she finishes with a smile that she hopes is as comforting as she wants it to be.

Emira ruffles her hair, which means the older witch is feeling better. “Ah, Mittens, you’re only fifteen, but you gotta understand that work is more about belonging, participation, and self-development. And only then it is about the money.”

Amity is pretty sure most people would disagree with that, but she doesn’t question her billionaire sister. Besides, the only belonging she wants right now is belonging in Luz’s arms, and the only participation she needs is participation in soft kisses with Luz. “I still need to ask you something, but I kinda want to ask Ed too, so maybe you can stop punishing him?”

Emira sighs and nods. 

“What exactly did he splurge on?” the younger sister wonders, at the same time intrigued (it’s her brother, after all) and horrified (it’s her brother, after all).

“You know how, with the new trade links with the human realm, they started producing human stuff here?” 

Amity nods. Of course she knows. Luz took part in setting up that factory. And Amity knows everything about Luz. She has a chart.

“So as you know I want to invest our family fortune to keep the three of us secure forever—”

Amity can’t help but smile. Emira has always been kind of a second Mom to her (well, the only real Mom she’s ever known), and ever since she’s been in charge of both her and Edric, her protectiveness has reached ludicrous levels. 

“—so Ed and I went to the factory to see if we could maybe get into production, say, five to ten percent stake.”

Amity has no idea what her sister is talking about, but nods intently.

“That would give us an annual yield of about three percent on the invested capital,” Emira continues, glancing at her scroll, which shows a lot of numbers with peculiar notes.

“Naturally,” Amity agrees, even though she doesn’t have a clue as to what she is agreeing with.

“Which is, of course, higher than what any bonds would yield, what with the current economy.”

“Absolutely.” Amity nods fiercely. She shakes her fist angrily. “That economy!” _I have no idea what’s going on._

“I wanted to go alone, but Edric, legally being the joint owner of our family estate, _had_ to be there,” Emira grunts, shutting her eyes at the memory.

Now Amity is _so_ much more intrigued that she almost forgets about her question for a second. And, instead, asks another one: “So what did he do?”

Emira rubs her nose with her thumb and index finger — a habit she has only developed in the past year. “He found the part where they make candy floss and tried every flavour.” Then she looks at Amity before the younger witch can open her mouth. “And he _bought_ it, _all_ of it.”

“Well,” Amity tries not to laugh ( _classic Ed!_ ) as she imagines Edric feasting on human snacks until he has a stomachache. “I mean, it’s pretty bad for his teeth, but I’m pretty sure we can afford candy floss, even if he bought every single piece of it.”

“He bought the _factory_ , Mittens!” Emira yells, and suddenly Amity understands that Ed is maybe, probably, _definitely_ safer locked up in his room. “The whole factory!”

It’s obvious that Emira wants to say more, but she follows up on her promise to let Edric out and draws a circle in the air with her finger. “Ed, you can come out now!”

A few moments pass, and Edric rushes down the stairs, ridiculously dressed in blue sweatpants and a pink polo shirt, looking sweaty and very flustered. “You can’t keep me locked up, I’m a soft boy who—” 

As soon as he notices Amity, his gaze shifts to the little sister. “Oh, hi Amity.” 

Emira crosses her arms, looking over her big brother head to toe. “Have you been running around your room? Or— actually, you know what, I don’t want to know.” 

“Are you ready to apologise?” Emira then questions the older Blight sternly, her arms crossed, her expression cross as ever.

“Em, come on!” Edric immediately whines. “Have mercy on me! My parents disowned me, I had to live on a tiny allowance for _two years_ , unable to even buy snacks!”

Amity feels a pang of pain at that. It was only a few months ago that she learned about how Mom and Dad had really treated the twins. Thankfully, she didn’t have to go through the same predicament, since she only came out to her siblings. And since their parents are rotting in jail like the horrible garbage they are.

Emira groans, but her expression softens instantly. “That’s because I was saving up our allowance so we wouldn’t _die_ when we graduated and they kicked us out,” she explains kindly, as if Edric were five. “I went through the same thing, Ed.”

Actually, Amity thinks, Edric does act like a five-year-old a lot. _And definitely has the humour of one._

“Well, they didn’t kick us out!” Edric beams, visibly pleased to be off the hook. “In fact, Amity’s crush—”

“Hey!” Amity interrupts. “She has a name — Luz!”

“—and her Owl Gang kicked our parents out instead,” Edric proceeds. “So _please_ let me splurge!” He actually falls on his knees on the carpet, right in the middle of the living room, blocking the human-made TV that Emira has taken a liking to. “Pleeeeeeease, sis, I beg you!”

“Why,” Emira asks, and Amity immediately knows that: a) it’s going to be a rhetoric question, and b) she’s already forgiven Ed and will let him spend at least more than she planned. “Why do you have this compulsive need to waste money?”

The boy immediately gets to his feet — which is impressive, because he isn’t even using hands — and grins with his signature grin. “Because I’m Baaaatmaaaa—”

“No, you’re not.” Emira gets up from the sofa. “And it’s a pretty stupid—”

Edric gasps. “Don’t you dare call Batman stupid! It’s the best human character ever! And I’m so much like him: an orphan billionaire who lives in a mansion and has a secret cave.”

“You’re not an orphan, we live in a house so that I can rent out our mansion, and our parents are in jail for being the worst people ever.” Emira counters, counting on her fingers, then blinks. “Wait, how come I don’t know about your secret cave?”

“Because it’s a secret!” Edric huffs, crossing his arms as Emira steps closer to look him in the eye. “Also because you would tease me endlessly,” he admits.

“Does _Jerbo_ know about the secret cave?” Emira immediately teases, proving his point, and Edric blushes — which always brings joy to Amity’s heart. _There’s nothing more pleasant than an embarrassed sibling. Well, maybe two embarrassed siblings._

“W-why would Jerbo know about the secret cave?” Edric stutters, his whole face reddening comically. 

“Maybe because Jerbo is your boyfriend?” Emira provides softly.

“Haaa- haaa- How do you know that?” Edric manages. Barely. 

“Because you’re my brother.”

Amity has rarely seen such pure, unfiltered warmth coming from her older sister, so she just watches in awe as Emira’s kind, supportive eyes look at Edric, whose breath is calming.

“You’re my siblings,” she continues, looking over the two of them now, “and it’s my job to know things about you. So that later, when you need my help, I can be there for you and drag you out of any mess.”

Amity’s eyes are stinging a little, and she’s genuinely grateful for such an amazing sister. She doesn’t think this often — and she’d rather burn alive than admit it out loud — but she is truly blessed with her siblings.

Apparently, Edric feels the same, because he starts bawling his eyes out. “I’m so sorry, Em, I love you so much, I won’t spend any more money, I promise, I will live like a hermit if you ask me to—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Emira pats his back and lets the scene play out. “I love you too, bro, just please try to spend a bit… less? Or you know what, any time you wanna make a big purchase, just ask me first, okay?”

“Okay,” Edric sniffs, pushing back from his sister. “Um, what exactly is a ‘big purchase’?”

Emira thinks for a moment. “Hmm, let’s say anything bigger than ten thousand snails?” _Ten thousand snails in just one day?!_ “Ten thousand on a single purchase, and, say, twenty-five thousand a day?”

Amity coughs up thin air, because she can barely imagine the possibility of spending so much money so fast. _The new Scroll Max is, like, a thousand and a half. And it’s overpriced garbage anyway._

Edric nods slowly. “Very difficult, but manageable. Anything for my sister.” He smiles warmly. “You know, Em, it really touched me when you said you learn stuff about us so that you can protect us in the future. It’s really wonderful of you.”

“Of course.” Emira tosses her still-dishevelled hair. “I’m truly a wonderful sister.” She grins. “But mostly I learn stuff about you so I can blackmail you in the future.”

“Aaaaand I hate you again,” Edric smiles through tears, wiping off his nose with his sleeve. Even though he literally has a handkerchief sticking out of his polo pocket.

“I never stopped hating you both for a second,” Amity mumbles, “but I do need your advice, and it’s kind of important.”

“Is it about your crush on Luz?”

“Yes, of course it’s about my crush on Luz. Doesn’t _everybody_ know that by now?” Amity moans in exasperation. 

“Yeah.” Ed nods, pulling out his scroll. “#Lumity is my favourite hashtag on Penstagram.”

“Wait.” Amity blinks, then blood rushes to her cheeks. “ _Luz_ is on Penstagram!” _If she’s seen any of the posts..!_

“Oh yes,” Emira nods and takes her scroll from the sofa, mirroring her brother’s actions precisely. “And she’s subscribed to it. Guess that speaks volumes about her skull density.”

“That’s exactly my problem.” Amity sits down on the carpet next to the little black table and buries her face in her forearms. Which, in turn, grow pretty numb from the coldness of the obsidian. 

“Seems to me it’s more of a Luz problem,” she hears Edric’s voice and then the familiar dull sound of a smack.

“How can we help, Mittens?” she hears Emira’s voice now, laced with concern and compassion.

“Well,” Amity begins, lifting her face, carefully choosing her words, so as not to give the twins any opportunities for jokes. “Today Luz approached me and told me, in detail, that she wants to, uh, learn more about me.”

Edric whistles, but does not follow up. Immediately, Emira smacks him on the head again. “Ed, stop whistling inside the house! It makes you lose money!”

“Yeah, so does a million other stupid human superstitions,” the oldest witch mumbles, but ceases his antics, sitting on the carpet next to Amity. He looks no less ridiculous in sweatpants and a polo, but at least he’s comfortable, Amity muses.

“So, Mittens, isn’t that good news?” he asks without touching Amity, which she appreciates at the moment, embarrassed as she is. “I mean, your crush wants to know you better.”

“Um, that’s not exactly the problem,” Amity begins, knowing how much she wants to say, and yet not knowing how to get her point across. 

“Thing is, I’ve been in love with Luz for so long that I kind of just accepted that she’ll never know about my feelings, and, well, that’s the dynamic. But she kind of changed the dynamic today. I think she needs to know.” Amity pauses. “I was always afraid she would learn about my feelings and break off our friendship.

“But now,” Amity sighs, “ _not_ being clear is way more of a lie. Luz getting to know more about me would lead me to blatantly lying to her about my feelings, and lying to her like that and betraying her trust is worse than losing her as a friend.”

The twins are silent throughout the monologue, and Emira, now, is also sitting next to Amity, her siblings now shielding her both sides. 

“What do you have in mind, Mittens?” Edric asks finally. When it comes down to interpersonal problems, he’s, surprisingly, the more capable of the two.

“And how can we help?” Emira supplies.

Amity is thankful for this, because, seeing this support, she can finally lay out her plan. 

“Well, you know how I model my Azura fanfiction after Luz?” she begins, still slightly ashamed of confessing this to the twins a while ago.

But now the siblings merely nod with not a sign of teasing, so Amity carries on. “So I wonder what would happen… if _someone_ were to tell Luz about that? Without mentioning her name?” she adds quickly.

“Then Luz, the wonderful, excited goofball of cuteness that she is, will try to figure out my crush and, well…” Amity chuckles sheepishly. “She’ll figure it out. Since I cannot confess properly, and Luz cannot take even the most blatant hints or clues, it seems this is the only way. If she likes me back, well, best thing ever. If not…

“We’ll still be there for you,” Edric immediately says, this time actually putting his arm around his little sister.

It doesn’t take long for Emira to mirror the motion. “We’ll still be there for you,” she repeats word for word, probably without realising — that’s how in sync the twins are.

Suddenly, Edric chuckles. “Damn, that’s actually a very solid and mature plan. Mittens, you are unusually wise. Are you sure you’re not adopted?”

“I wish,” Amity mumbles without really meaning it.

Edric grows a bit more serious. “Remember — of course we will help — but when Luz figures it out, _you_ ’re the one who’s gotta have to talk to her. “

“I know, I’ll _try_ but I’m, I’m… I’m cursed!” Amity blurts out desperately, clenching her fists and shutting her eyes.

There is a moment of silence before she opens her eyes again, slowly lifting her gaze to face her siblings.

To her surprise, the twins don’t laugh at her, don’t make fun in their usual manner. But neither do they seem worried: the two witches just exchange knowing looks.

“Ah, the infamous Blight curse.” Edric nods solemnly. “The Curse of The Flustered Mess. Runs in the family. I hoped it would skip a generation.”

Emira slaps her face with a palm. Then slaps Edric for good measure. “Mittens is _the same generation_ , you idiot.”

“Ah, right.” Edric rubs his cheek. “Makes sense.”

“You guys know it?” Amity gasps. She’s never really been sure if she’s truly cursed, but now that the twins are so adamant about it, maybe the curse _is_ a real thing! _Or, maybe, Ed and Em are just messing with me._

“Of course we know it!” Emira assures, closing the already tiny distance to embrace Amity. “We _have_ it, sis.”

“What?” Amity mumbles into Emira’s shoulder. Well, into her armpit. She _is_ pretty short compared to the twins, even sitting down. _No way someone as collected as Em and Ed have this curse!_

“It’s true,” Edric supplies, joining the hug. “Now that you guys know that Jerbo and I recently started dating, I can be honest with you. When I’m around him, I act like my brain is a liquid.”

“You always act like your brain is a liquid, Ed,” Emira says, but there’s no malice to her words. The siblings break the embrace, and Emira smiles the warmest sister smile at Amity. “To be honest, I lose my cool around Viney very fast too, even though we’ve been together for half a year.”

“Yes,” Edric chimes in, “Like when you wanted to tell Viney ‘I think this sweater looks good on you’, but you said ‘I think I’m sweaty and gay for you’. Which is the truth, but—”

“Well, at least it got me dating her,” Emira interrupts with the tiniest blush on her cheeks. “And remember, when Jerbo kissed you for the first time, you said ‘Wow, thank you’, cried, and ran away.”

“Well, I’m emotional!” Edric mumbles sheepishly. Then he scrunches his forehead. “Wait, how do _you_ know that?”

“Well,” Emira counters with a victorious smile, “I just so happen to be dating Viney, who just happens to be Jerbo’s best friend and confidant.”

“Touché,” Edric admits, then turns to Amity with a wink. “See how cringeworthy we are?”

He ruffles the little sister’s hair. “So don’t worry, Mittens, it’s highly unlikely you’re gonna screw up worse than us.”

_______________

  
  


It is _extremely_ likely Amity is going to screw up worse than them.

“Look, Amity, I painted my nails purple!” 

Amity is going to screw up so much worse than anyone has ever screwed up in the history of screw-ups.

“I can paint your nails too and we’re gonna be purple buddies!” Luz babbles in her usual chipper and bubbly manner, and Amity is dying inside in her usual dying-inside manner.

“So,” Luz grins, and Amity crawls from the world of the dead for a second just to see that beautiful grin. “What do you think?”

Amity thinks, _I want to glue my lips to yours with a perma-glue spell,_ but out loud she says, “Purple.”

_Less coherent than I hoped, but more eloquent than I feared._

“Yes,” Luz nods seriously. “Purple. Now, thanks _so much_ for chatting with me the whole weekend! I already feel like I know you so much better!”

With that, the human throws her arms around Amity, and Amity decides that red is her favourite colour now, because, apparently, she’s going to stay red forever.

“So how is your crush?” Luz asks kindly, wrapping her arm around Amity’s shoulder.

“Worse than ever,” Amity whispers as she secretly wishes for Luz’s arm to get permanently glued to her. _I do need to learn that perma-glue spell…_

“Aww…” Luz pouts (adorably). “You told me you’ve been giving her hints for more than _a year_! Can’t that dense girl just take a hint?” 

Amity sighs. “You have no idea.” 

Over the weekend, Amity has found it simpler to confide in Luz for three reasons:

One, they were chatting on their scrolls, which provided more time to think (and breathe!) than video calls or real-life meetings.

Two, Amity had already decided she would be earnest with Luz, so she didn’t hide anything, and even asked a few questions herself. Not that she didn’t know everything about the wonderful human already… Well, apart from her middle name, ridiculously enough.

And three, Amity knew her siblings were working their magic (metaphorically and maybe literally) to nudge Luz on the agreed-upon path.

So now, Amity is feeling slightly more agitated, being face-to-face with her crush again. With the crush in question asking her about, well, her crush. _Ludicrous._

“So, how’s your middle name?” Amity decides to change the subject. 

For some reason, this is the only thing that keeps her calm around Luz. As ridiculous as it sounds, every time she got flustered over the weekend, she would just try and guess Luz’s middle name — the girl had told her in her culture people had two names and two surnames, but in the place she came from people just had one surname, like on the Boiling Isles. But two names still! 

And, while Amity can’t really grasp at why this particular exchange has been so therapeutic, but nagging Luz about her middle name, and Luz saying ‘no’ to each guess with a bunch of smileys, was the most calm and collected she’d ever been around the cheerful human. 

It might be, Amity muses as her embarrassment fades away, even more effective than making a chart — as sacrilegious as it sounds.

“Still a big secret!” Luz shows Amity her tongue and pokes Amity’s belly. “Wow, those are some rock-hard abs! I’d _love_ to see your workout!”

“Is it Amalia?” Amity blurts out, lest she physically melt in front of the way-more-well-toned girl in front of her. And, as stupid as it is, the middle-name cure seems to keep the curse at bay. At least for a while.

“Nope. Amity.”

“A-amity?” For a second, the green-haired witch forgets how to breathe. “Y-you mean, your middle name is Amity?” _I am really unsure how to feel right now._

“No, silly,” Luz giggles. “I mean, ‘Amity’, as in, ‘Amity, look, there’s something I wanna tell you’.”

 _You’re the one who’s silly_ , Amity thinks as she remembers how to breathe again. _And I want to kiss the silly out of you. And if it doesn't work, well, I’ll just have to kiss harder._

Out loud, she says, “Why didn’t you just say so?”

“Well,” Luz rubs the back of her head sheepishly, “frankly, it’s about your siblings.”

 _Oh is it?_ “Oh is it?” _Dammit, Amity, ever so eloquent._

“Yeah, they kinda… Well, you know how you have a crush?”

Amity blinks. _Did she just—_ “Yes,” she replies. “Yes, I do know that.”

“So,” Luz carries on without any second thoughts, “they told me a way to figure out who it might be.”

“Oh.” _Yes! Ed and Em, I love you!_

“You know, I pride myself on my investigative skills,” the human boasts, rocking back and forth on the bench. This might not be an ideal place for the truth, but it’s a great place to be alone: just them, the old, worn-out wooden bench, and a few still-blooming trees that weren’t told it was the middle of summer.

“I’m great at figuring out even the smallest clues,” Luz puffs out her chest, and Amity actually manages not to deadpan. Which is a huge achievement at this point.

“But I wouldn’t ever start an investigation like this without your permission,” Luz wraps up. “I care about you too much. I just…” Did she blush? _I can sweat she blushed! I mean, swear!_

The human straightens herself on the bench, looking in Amity’s eyes. “I just figured out, it could be our thing, you know? You guessing my middle name, me guessing the name of your crush? And who knows—” Luz starts rocking back and forth. “Maybe if I can guess who she is, I can help you two get together! I really want you to be happy.”

_You stupid, ridiculous, chivalrous, selfless idiot. I love you so much you can’t imagine._

“So, uh, um!” Amity collects herself, clenching the bench with her hands, hoping she doesn’t get splinters. “What did Em and Ed tell you?”

“Well,” Luz takes out her scroll and turns it on. “They told me you model your Azura fanfiction on your crush. Like in Chapter 3, when she asks Hecate out to Grom in a flashback — kind of like you wanted to ask your crush out until I, uh, ruined it.”

_Aha. “Ruined it”. You have no idea, Luz._

_Wait a minute._ “Chapter 3?” Amity slowly looks at the maybe-blushing human. “You… You read my stories?”

Is this a blush on Luz’s cheeks? Because Amity can swear Luz is blushing!

“Um, yeah, I read everything you post,” definitely-blushing Luz says, barely above a whisper, which is unusual for the human. “Sorry if it’s creepy.”

“No,” Amity whispers back. “That’s… endearing.”

“So, um, the twins told me to look closer at Chapter 5…”

_Yes, because I told them to tell you._

“Emira said that even a half-wit with skull density of a rock can figure this out.”

_Yes, definitely something that Emira would say. Also sounds like you, you beautiful impossible genius imbecile._

“So let’s see…” Luz gulps. “Again, you sure it’s okay if I do this?”

“Yes,” Amity replies, just now realising she didn’t really give her express permission the first time. “I think it’s high time you figured out my crush…” Her stomach begins to do curls and flips and other assorted acrobatics. “Luz Amelia Noceda.”

And, just like that, the pirouettes are done and the stomach is back to its main job — digesting her breakfast. _Huh, it’s so weird. Seems like Luz’s middle name is some kind of antidote._

“Nope, not Amelia.” Luz is scrolling and humming to herself, rocking back and forth once again. It seems the human just can’t sit still. It’s either rocking or pacing on tapping her foot against the ground — which Amity finds infuriating. And appealing. 

“Aha. So in Chapter 5, Azura, escaping the Mind-Gnawing demon, changes her appearance… And the twins said it’s based on your crush!”

Amity is slowly preparing for rejection. Her heart is racing, she’s been looking forward to this day for over a year, and yet she knows Luz will reject her. _We will still be friends,_ Amity tries to remind herself. _She will not abandon me._ Yet, she finds it hard to believe at the moment.

“Uhuh, her skin gets darker… ‘Gorgeous tan shade…’ Yay for Latino representation!” Luz chants. “Or is Azura Latin-American? Is she Dominican like me or maybe Mexican? My Mom told me about a girl from her school who was—” 

_I have no idea what any of that means, you mesmerising dimwit, I was modelling Azura on you._

“Her eyes are now brown, so is her ‘short and smooth dark chestnut hair’...” Luz mumbles, absent-mindedly running her fingers through her own short and smooth dark chestnut hair.

The human’s smile fades, and she keeps reading under her breath, but Amity knows every word: she _wrote_ those words. 

Luz stops and looks at the other girl, and the girl in question thinks it was all a bad, bad, bad idea and tries to find any sort of mind-erasing spell that wouldn’t cause permanent damage.

“She looks a lot like… me,” Luz mumbles with a serious face.

_Okay, who cares about permanent damage? Mind-erasing spell! Need one! Now!_

Luz chuckles nervously. “Well, that can only mean one thing.” 

_Finally._ Instead of panic, a wave of relief washes over the youngest Blight. After all this time, finally, the suffering is over, Luz knows, she _knows_ now, and whatever happens…

Luz takes a breath, and Amity, who was about to faint some seconds ago, is now smiling at her crush, her smart, attentive crush who has finally figured it out.

— “It’s because it’s _you_ , Luz.”

— “I have a twin sister on the Boiling Isles and you have a crush on her!”

For a moment the two girls just stare at each other. Actually, way more than a moment, but Amity doesn’t understand what Time is anymore, not after they say those things at the same time. She is trying to process what’s going on, and so is Luz, it seems, because the human’s mouth is slightly open, revealing those wonderful human teeth that Amity wouldn’t mind biting her— 

“It’s _me_?!” Luz shrieks, crawling towards Amity, closing the distance between them so much that Amity is pretty sure her face will permanently be red from now on.

“Of course it’s you!” Amity defends. “It’s always been you. You’re the one I asked to Grom, you’re the one I’ve been gushing around for _over a year_!” She still can’t believe this is happening.

“It can’t be me.” Luz frowns. 

“I’m sorry…” Amity signs, her mind going blank, rejection poisoning her, travelling through her veins and up to her very heart. _It was still worth it,_ she tells herself despite the numbing fear in her stomach. _At least now she knows, and I can… what do the humans say? Face the music?_

“I mean, I think I was very obvious… Ed and Em have noticed, of course…” Amity gulps and folds her fingers, trying to hold back tears. “Willow, naturally. Gus, obviously… Even Boscha.” 

Now she’s holding a fist, having folded all five fingers. “I’m really sorry, if you haven’t noticed, that just probably means you never saw me that way so…”

“It can’t be me,” Luz repeats dumbly, staring at the green-haired witch from a tiny distance of maybe ten centimeters.

Amity lowers her gaze. “I understand, Luz. I, I hope, I h-” She feels sobs gathering up in her throat. “I hope your rejection doesn’t mean we h-have to s-stop being… friends…” She is crying now, and everything is terrible, and why is Luz lifting her face by the chin?

“It can’t be me,” Luz says for the third time, very seriously, “because the people I like usually don’t like me back.”

Amity doesn’t register anything now. Well, maybe the urge to cast a spell to go back in time to avoid this mess. 

“What.”

“You are the most brilliant young witch I’ve known,” Luz says, still holding Amity’s chin between her thumb and index finger. “You are smart, and you are brave, and you are the most gorgeous girl in both realms. And…” 

Luz suddenly smiles very softly, and Amity thinks she’s going to burn the floor with the fire in her body. “And the smartest, most beautiful person in the universe chose _me_?” 

“Of course I chose you!” Amity pretty much screams. “The way you deal with life, how you never lose courage, how you’re steadfast, unwavering, and Titan you’re infuriatingly pretty and every time you speak I wanna _die_ and _kiss_ you at the same time and—”

And Amity understands she might have gone too far, because Luz’s mouth opens and her eyes widen. She shifts a little back, but doesn’t drop the witch’s chin from her fingers. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Amity whispers, realising that she still hasn’t been accepted. “I thought—”

“You thought I could reject you?” Luz whispers too, the whole conversation dropping in volume, to the point where Amity’s ears begin to ring. “How could I reject you when I never thought _my_ feelings for _you_ could be reci-” She licks her lips. “Recip- GAH! Returned?”

A small giggle escapes the witch’s lips, then another one, and suddenly she finds herself laughing, her chin pushing into Luz’s fingers still clutching her face.

Luz starts to laugh as well, somehow getting even closer to the girl across her. “Well, leave it to me to mess up something like this!”

“So…” Amity wonders, once the two of them have stopped laughing. “What… is ‘this’? If it’s not a rejection…”

“Here.” Luz grins, letting Amity’s chin go. “Let’s try to put it in simple words, so we both get it. Amity—”

Amity’s pulse goes up.

“Amity, I really like you—”

Amity forgets how to breathe once again.

“—and, if you really like me back…”

“I do!” Amity blurts out and immediately chides herself mentally.

Luz grins even wider. “Then would you like to be my girlfriend?”

“YES!” Amity roars, crawling towards Luz in the same position, their knees pressed into one another, the distance between their faces down to mere centimetres. Yes, the wooden bench hurts, and she probably got a million splinters, but _who cares_?!

Luz is not taken aback, and Amity loves her even more for that. “Well, then, uhm…”

“Can you please put your fingers back where they belong?” Amity whispers boldly, her breath falling onto Luz’s lips. If she’s gonna die here, at least she’s gonna die like this — having confessed and…

The human blushes slightly, but this time the blush lingers as her eyes dart to Amity’s lips. “W-would you like me to kiss you like Azura kissed Hecate in Chapter 6?”

“But there’s no Chapter 6 yet— Oh.” _Oh. Oh!_ “Yes.” Amity feels the human’s fingers on her chin and she really thinks nothing can top that. “Like in Chapter 6.”

So Luz drags her in by the chin and kisses her.

Turns out, Amity thinks as she blacks out, there _is_ something that can top that.

_______________

  
  


“No waaaaay!” 

“You literally _fainted_ during your first kiss?!”

“Mittens, you are adorable!” 

Amity is _almost_ too happy to hate her siblings right now. She is dating Luz — even though it’s still hard to believe — and nothing else matters. She can stand the constant gushing, and the over-the-top teasing, and yes, she can even stand Edric and Emira pinching her cheeks from both sides.

“I, uh, didn’t faint during the second one,” Amity mumbles, and the twins ‘aww’ in unison. 

“I’m gonna tell everyone till the day I die!” Edric squeals, and no, Amity was wrong, she can _not_ stand that.

Yet, before she can start a fight with the eldest Blight, Emira smiles with her brand ‘this is poison’ smile, only reserved for her worst enemies — and her beloved siblings.

“No, you won’t, Ed.”

“And why is that?” Edric huffs, still walking to the other side of the living room, which is at least fifteen steps away from the tall witch. _Titan, we do have a giant living room, don’t we._

“Because then _I_ can tell everyone about you and Jerbo.” Emira takes a few steps forth, and Edric is pressing himself further into the wall. 

Amity remembers the wall is freshly painted from yesterday’s Incident With the Crayons, so she celebrates a small victory against her brother. Surely his ridiculous pink-and-yellow T-shirt will get stained. 

Okay, the T-shirt is 100% cool, but the fact Edric is wearing it makes it 95% lame. Also why in the world is he wearing a scarf? It’s so clear he’s sweating. Sometimes Ed’s fashion statements make Amity wonder if her brother is indeed a rebel or just someone with no sense of wearing matching outfits.

“No idea what you’re talking about.” Edric looks around, but then again, he can’t really hide in his own house, can he.

“I saw Jerbo exit your bedroom in the morning.” Emira waits for her words to take effect.  
  
But they don’t. Instead, Edric visibly relaxes. “So? We’re dating. You guys know that now.”

“He stayed overnight~” Emira coos, and Ed does manage to turn a slight shade of pink, tugging on his scarf nervously.

People aren’t actually supposed to blush this often, Amity thinks. Apparently, in addition to The Curse, the Blights also seem to have weird blood-circulation issues. Thinking back to herself pining after Luz, she realises she _did_ blush more than a healthy amount. More than a healthy number of times. 

“It was a sleepover!”

“He had a hickey and you’ve been wearing a scarf all day.” Emira points out with an innocent ( _not_ ) smile.

“It’s… cold?” Edric tries.

“It’s July, Ed.”

“So what?” Edric snaps defensively. “Okay, look! We’re dating, I’m seventeen, I am allowed to, uh, cuddle, and, um, kiss…” His index finger flies up. “A-and maybe even sex my boyfriend!”

“Oh my Titan you use it as a verb~” Emira coos, closing the distance in a second and pinching her brother’s cheek. “You and Mittens are both sooooo innocent~”

“No we’re not!” The eldest and the youngest Blights say in unison. Amity groans. _I’m just further proving her point._

“So, Ed,” Emira starts, smiling with the sweetness of an enchanted candy cone, “wouldn’t be it a shame if your boyfriend knew how you asked him out?”

Amity just blinks. _What is she getting at?_

“What do you mean?” The green-haired boy huffs, and yet his cheeks grow rose-ish again, ever so slightly. “O-of course he knows how I asked him out! I mean, he _was_ there!”

“Oh yes.” Emira nods. “But you _weren’t_.”

Amity gasps and sits down on a nearby chair, putting her hands over her mouth. A tiny Luz appears in her head, screaming: _Top Ten Anime Betrayals!!_ Whatever it means.

Edric grows pale, apart from his cheeks, which still retain some of that rosy colour. “Look, I—”

“Cut the crap, bro.” Emira puts her hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I know that when you were asking him out, it was your illusion. And you,” she pokes his chest, “were in the bushes, watching and stress-eating ice-cream.” The girl radiates brilliance as she takes a step back. “Because you were too scared that he’d reject you.”

Amity blushes, looking away. She has always loved Edric, even when he’s being obnoxious, but never thought he could be so similar to her. _He was scared of rejection too…_ she thinks with compassion. Then she remembers him using (stealing!) her make-up, fragrances and nail polish — and the compassion fades into oblivion.

“How do you know?” Edric whispers, somehow backing down even deeper into the wall. 

“Because,” Emira winks at Amity while turning her back to the eldest sibling, “I was in the tree making out with Viney, _right_ above the bushes. And I just couldn’t resist taking a video of you mumbling with ice-cream in your mouth.” 

_Ew,_ Amity thinks. _Ed talking with his mouth full or Em making out with someone._ _I don’t even know which makes for a worse image._

Edric gasps, and Emira stars mimicking him:

“Oh — _nom nom_ — what if he — _nom nom_ — sees through the — _nom nom_ — illusion?” She laughs. “I’m so — _nom_ — screwed!”

“Come on, Em, that’s cruel!” Amity tries to chide her sister, but finds herself laughing too. 

Emira grins. “Come on, Ed. You can’t blackmail a blackmailer.”

Edric opens his mouth, then closes it again. Then he points his finger at his twin with accusation. Then retracts it. Then merely sighs, accepting his fate. “I wasn’t planning on telling anyone about Mittens’s first kiss anyway,” he mumbles. 

Then — just like that — he is grinning again. “Not until your wedding at least.” 

_That’s it._ Amity stands up. _Edric is so gonna get it._

Thankfully, the eldest sibling senses the change of mood and, escaping Emira’s grasp, runs towards the door. “I’ll be at Jerbo’s please don’t look for me okay see you bye!”

As soon as the door swings shut, the two sisters exchange glances. “Isn’t it Monday?” Amity wonders innocently.

“Oh, yes,” Emira replies with the same innocence.

“Isn’t Monday the day when Jerbo hangs out with Viney and Barcus?” Amity grins very innocently.

“Oh, yes~” Emira sing-songs very, _very_ innocently.

“Doesn’t Viney usually take videos of Edric messing up when he’s flustered?”

“Absolutely,” Emira grins, typing on her scroll — no doubt texting her girlfriend.

“Doesn’t Edric seem _very_ flustered?” Amity rubs her chin way too innocently.

“Flustered enough for at least an hour of blackmail-worthy material.” Emira seems happier than the day their parents got sentenced to life in prison. “And the best part?”

Amity looks up.

“I just asked Viney if I could come see her at Jerbo’s.”

“Aww,” Amity tries to keep up the fakeness. “Just because you miss your girlfriend so much!”

“Yes,” Emira sniffs dramatically, wiping off a non-existent tear. “I get to see my lovely girlfriend, hang around my friends Jerbo and Barcus, _and_ witness my brother embarrassing himself all evening.” She sighs dreamily. “Truly a night to remember.”

Amity smiles, getting up from the chair to go to her room and text Luz — her first official text to _her girlfriend_!

“Oh, and if Edric drops something on himself or misuses words, I’m gonna send you the videos,” Emira calls out.

Amity laughs with joy. _I love this family._

_______________

Stargazing with Luz is the best thing ever. Cuddled under the same blanket in front of the Owl House, enjoying this soft summer night, their hands entwined, Luz gazing into her eyes lovingly. And, every time The Curse hits Amity, she can just keep guessing Luz’s middle name and get better. Or, well, more coherent.

“Is it Boscha? Please don’t tell me it’s Boscha.”

Like she does right now, when Luz takes out their hands and starts kissing Amity’s knuckles and Amity thinks, once again, that breathing is too complicated, so, instead of dying or casting a perma-glue spell to her knuckles and Luz’s lips, she starts to guess.

“It’s not Boscha! Why would it be Boscha?” Luz takes away her lips from Amity’s knuckles. Which is probably for the better. Amity _did_ practise the perma-glue spell a lot.

“Just going through all the letters of the alphabet, Luz.”

“English or Spanish alphabet?”

Amity feels like she is about to face her first tough choice as Luz’s girlfriend. And she _cannot_ fail. 

Armies of tiny Amities assemble in her head, wearing war paint and waving… sticks? _Okay, subconscious, sure, whatever works._

_“What do we do?” the Amity-general asks as the other Amities line up in front._

_“We say English!” one tiny Amity shouts, and countless others join her._

_“No, we say Spanish!” another tiny Amity contradicts and gathers no less support._

_“Do we know what either of these words mean?” the Amity-general wonders._

_“No idea, ma’am!” all the other Amities respond in unison._

_“Can we find out fast enough to reply?”_

_“That’s a negative, ma’am?”_

_“Is it possible to make a chart?” the Amity-general tries one last approach._

_The other Amities just shake their heads miserably and start running around, throwing their sticks at each other._

Okay. That wasn’t the weirdest thing ever for sure.

“Haaaa…” Amity replies. “Spanglish?”

“Ames,” Luz says, and the slightly-older witch sees the affection in the human’s eyes and can’t keep herself sane without kissing those lips. And so she does.

“Wow,” Luz pants after the kiss, her eyes slightly wide, her face a bit red. _Now Luz is always blushing just the right amount._ “Now I can actually see we’re dating. Cause you finally initiated a kiss and I totally forgot what I was going to say.”

Amity just smiles softly at her girlfriend (calling Luz ‘girlfriend’ will never get old), while the tiny Amities in her head celebrate their first victory. 

“Oh yes, I remembered!”

The tiny Amities run away while the Amity-general is trying to shoot herself with a stick.

“ _¿Hablas Español? De verdad?_ ” Luz looks at Amity in awe, and Amity, in turn, is lost in Luz’s eyes and the beautiful words coming out of her mouth. Except she doesn’t understand what those words mean. “You really speak Spanish?”

_I’ll just tell her the truth and not be a flustered mess for once in my life._

“Oh, I’m good at Spanish, I’m great at Spanish, I’m the queen of Spanish!”

_Nope, not the way it works._

Luz only laughs — a jingling, enticing sound that Amity loves more than the sweetest music. “I’m pretty sure the Spanish have a king, but sure, why not.” 

“I have no idea what ‘Spanish’ means,” Amity admits.

“I know,” Luz smiles and rubs her girlfriend’s cheek. “Though it’s very cute how you get flustered trying to impress me.”

Amity is very warm. It’s an unusually warm summer this year. Must be the horrors of global warming somehow transferring from the human realm.

“You don’t have to impress me, Ames,” Luz says, placing a small kiss on Amity’s burning cheek. “You’re already the most impressive person in the world, and I love you for that.”

_L-love?_

Global warming is approaching way too fast for Amity to regain her composure. 

“Sorry, too soon?” Luz chuckles. “I know usually it takes a bit of dating to say that, but considering we’ve been mutually pining for over a year, it seems fitting.”

Amity can barely hear her girlfriend over the sound of approaching global warming, but does notice her nerdy reference to Azura/Hecate fanfiction. And she loves that about Luz.

No. Not only that. She _loves_ Luz. She has been referring to the human with that word for so long it has become mundane. But she has never thought that yes, all this time, she has been in love with Luz, and, in the recent half-a-year of bonding, the feeling has evolved to pure, unadulterated romantic love.

“You know I’m pretty impulsive,” Luz looks away with a — perfectly healthy — blush. “But that’s just how I feel about you. I love you. You don’t have to say it back yet — or ever.”

“I impulse you too!” Amity blurts out. “I mean, love. I mean, too, I, you, love.” _Gah! Confound this curse!_ “I too you love.” _Try again._ “I love you too!” 

_Yes!_

_The Amity-general is jumping up and down in her head while her troops cheer and throw their sticks in the air. We have achieved peace without waging a war! The best kind of victory!_

“Aww, that’s so sweet, Ames!” Luz reaches in for another kiss — apparently, she is now as addicted to them as Amity. “And you even remembered how to English!”

“I have no idea what ‘English’ or ‘Spanish’ means,” Amity admits as soon as she retraces the concept of breathing step-by-step. _I will make a chart for breathing as soon as I come home,_ she promises herself.

“Well, Spanish is the language my Mom and I speak at home sometimes,” Luz explains. “Where my Mom comes from, it’s the main language people speak, and we want to preserve our culture — mainly through food, music, and language.”

“I want to learn all about your culture,” Amity blurts out and— and it’s okay. She doesn’t have to chide herself, there is no shame or embarrassment. She is Luz’s girlfriend now, and it’s a perfectly understandable desire. _Wow, I didn’t even have to guess her middle name to calm down._

“That’s great!” Luz’s eyes shine with admiration. “I’ll tell you all about it, well, I mean, what I know — for now, in English. Oh,” she adds, “and ‘English’ is the language we’re speaking right now, I thought you should know.”

“Why is it called… ‘English?’”

“Well,” Luz shrugs, pushing Amity under the blanket. “We call it ‘English’ because in the human realm there are people called ‘the English’ who invented the language. Though,” she rubs her chin, “where I live, most people also speak English, but when they hear the English speak English, they say the English can’t speak English. Or was it the Irish? The Irish are a different people, but they also speak English. _But_ they also speak Irish…”

Luz is rambling, and Amity just looks at her, marvelling once again at how her left brow furrows in thought, how the barrage of words escapes her lips and yet she doesn’t make a single mistake, doesn’t misspeak, doesn’t get lost in her own words. Now Amity can enjoy watching Luz without it looking weird, and it’s the best feeling ever. After kissing Luz, of course.

“What do you call it then, if not ‘English’?” Luz asks, drawing the witch out of her reverie.

“...‘Language’.”

“Hey!” Luz frowns. “I’m not swearing!”

“No, I mean, we call it ‘language’,” Amity clarifies. “We don’t really have any other, uh, languages. And it’s so cool you speak two languages. I love you, Luz,” Amity says suddenly, just because she can.

“For speaking two languages?” Luz teases, and Amity blushes — though, this time it’s a healthy amount. _Hopefully._

“Just for who you are.”

“I also love you, my wonderful sappy girlfriend,” Luz reaches out to kiss Amity on the cheek again, but meets her lips instead. She grins. “A win-win.”

“It feels so good to just be able to say I love you,” Amity muses, content. “I love you, Luz.” She giggles. “I love you, Luz Camila Noceda.”

“You do realise Camila is my mother’s name.”

“Yes.”

“It’s both weird and cute,” Luz admits with a laugh as a star winks at them from the sky. “Hey, Ames, would you like me to teach you _un poco Español_?”

“I have no idea what that means but yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I thought of a fun little prompt to write a fun little one-shot. But then ‘five times’ turned into five chapters, and the first chapter grew into a behemoth demon (hopefully, at least half as warm and fuzzy as King), and then an idea for four more + epilogue tagged along… Seems fitting for my first story on AO3. If you are actually reading this... Thank you. I do appreciate it, and I'm not saying it just because. I do mean it.
> 
> The story is already planned and scripted(-ish), I just need to write it out. Also the following chapters are NOT gonna be this big. I mean, 10k words, sheesh. (Hopefully the next ones will be around 6-8k per chapter.)


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luz is turning eighteen, and Amity is having dirty thoughts. They both want their first time to be perfect, which makes it overly complicated. Luz and Amity are trying to get it right, Emira is giving sex education, and Edric is giving unsolicited advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THIS NOTE:
> 
> Even though both Luz and Amity are over 18 in this chapter, there is absolutely nothing explicit in the story. Everything they do (sex-related) is behind the scenes, and is only referenced. There will be NO descriptions of any sexual activity in this story — but it will be referenced. There will be NO graphic descriptions of nudity or naked body parts — but it will be mentioned and referenced. In addition, there are a lot of conversations about sex, consent, protection, trusting your partner, and other important aspects, so it’s not just a superficial one-off mention. And, naturally, there are related jokes because Edric and Emira exist. 
> 
> Thus, I am putting up this warning. Now that the story is finished, after consulting with my readers on whether to leave the story T-rated or make it M-rated, I got equal votes for T and M. So, as a compromise, I am putting an additional tag of IMPLIED SEXUAL CONTENT, and warning everyone that, while the previous chapter was 'T' in the context of 'PG-13', this one is more 'T' in the context of '16+/late teens'.
> 
> Thank you for your attention, and I hope you enjoy the rest of the story! <3

“Okay, so what’s the difference between _te quiero_ y _te amo_ , again?”

Amity loves videochatting with Luz. Amity loves seeing her girlfriend on the scroll, lying in her bed — she has an actual bed now, which is a feat! Oh, how many times has Amity slept in that bed over the last three years, cuddling, hugging, and, well, fiercely making out with Luz. 

The thing is, now that they’ve been dating for three whole years, they pretty much know everything about each other. It does not strain their relationship, granted — but they talk so often (every day, five to six times a day), and stay over at each other’s houses so often (every weekend), that sometimes, there is simply nothing to talk about.

So Luz decides to continue giving her girlfriend Spanish lessons, which stopped somewhere about a month after they started three years ago. There was just so much to do. Like kissing, and kissing, and kissing — _and did I mention kissing?_ But also learning a lot about Luz, her family, and her culture. 

And not learning a clue about her middle name.

Amity would prefer to spend this time just silently staring at the scroll, taking in Luz’s unbearably sexy seventeen-year-old ( _almost eighteen!_ ) form, accentuated by the new style the girl has chosen: sleeveless shirts all the way, showing the saliva-inducing shoulders that the human has developed so well. 

_Titan, I’m so thirsty it’s not even funny._ Amity takes a gulp of water, which elicits a smirk from Luz’s face. Somehow, over the past half a year, the human’s flirting has grown way more heated and way more aggressive — which Amity loves with all her heart (aaaand not just her heart), but more often than not it causes her Curse to resurface. 

And, indeed, Luz does bare her shoulder, pulling the tiny strap of fabric away, only her bra strap now covering the skin. “Oops.”

Amity finishes the water because her throat is a desert, and she is a cactus.

“So _querer_ and _amar_ are slightly different words for love,” Luz answers innocently as she starts rubbing her shoulder, seeing very well — in ultra-high-resolution — how Amity’s eyes follow her movements.

“L-like different concepts?” Amity tries, still drawn to Luz’s shoulder. _Titan, she is so infuriatingly beautiful._ Luz has developed from a very pretty girl into an impossibly beautiful young woman, and Amity finds it extremely hard to contain herself sometimes.

“Not really…” Luz murmurs, keeping up with the circular motions. “It’s more about…” Suddenly, she stops and lifts her hand to show Amity her freshly-done purple nails. The very nails Amity painted just a few hours ago. “The _intensity_ of the feeling,” she whispers sensually, putting one finger against her lip and slightly opening her mouth.

“I CAN’T CONCENTRATE!” Amity blurts out very, very loudly. So loudly, in fact, that Emira and Edric probably heard and will tease her about it for days. Until she embarrasses herself even more to give them a new thing to tease her about.

Luz laughs and puts the shirt — well, whatever tiny piece of fabric it contains — back on her shoulder. “Sorry, love, you know I’m just teasing.”

 _Of course I know,_ Amity the Desert Cactus thinks. _I’d rather you didn’t tease and just caressed me with those fingers._ And, even though she was caressed by those fingers just a few hours ago, Amity longs for more. And yes, she is embarrassed, but it’s been _three years_ , and Luz is turning eighteen in a matter of days, and Amity should probably concentrate before she gets any more aroused during a Spanish lesson.

“So basically you would only say _te amo_ to someone you love with intensity,” Luz keeps on, now in a more formal manner.

“Like ‘I love you very much’?” Amity’s still trying to grasp the concept.

“Not really.” Luz shakes her head. “If you’re talking to, say, your brother or sister, it would still be ‘te quiero’, but you could say ‘te quiero mucho’ to emphasise how much you love them.”

_What if I don’t love them at all? What if I hate my siblings with a burning passion?_

“So _te amo_ is more romantic?” Amity still can’t figure it out. “Like something you would tell me?” Her mind is no longer reeling when Luz says ‘I love you’ to her, which is a good development. _All it took was, like, two years._

Amity is a fast learner.

“Well,” Luz licks her lips slightly, which, of course, is just to tease Amity further. “It implies a certain level of _intensity_ , in the case of us… We would have to have sex first.”

Amity desperately wants to leave the Boiling Isles and go live in the desert where she belongs, with her people — the Desert Cactuses. _Cacti? I don’t even know the name of my own great nation!_

“But then again,” the mood immediately changes as Luz shrugs with a huff, “I would also say _te amo_ to my Mom, because I love her intensely. Look, even native speakers can’t explain it, just use _querer_ to be sure.”

“Okay,” Amity agrees, then a thought strikes her mind, which she just _has to_ voice. “But isn't _querer_ also used for… wanting someone?” The blush on Amity’s cheeks and neck looks like a great red canyon — very fitting for a desert.

“Oh, no, it’s only for wanting things,” Luz dismisses the notion cheerfully, failing to notice the gravity. _Ah, her skull density has not gone anywhere,_ Amity thinks lovingly. “Doesn’t work for people. Look, I gotta go, I think Eda has burned the water in the kitchen, just try to memorise what we learned today, okay?”

“Okay,” Amity says, trying not to really think about what she has learned. 

Because what she has learned is that she wants to reach that level of intensity with Luz. She desires intimacy. As selfish and scary as it sounds — what if Luz thinks she’s creepy?! — Amity wants to have sex with her girlfriend, Luz.

“Remember, languages are weird. Like, ‘valuable’ and ‘invaluable’ mean the same thing!” Luz chirps, running towards the door, scroll in hand. “Okay, gotta go, love you, bye!”

“Love you, bye,” Amity mumbles and puts the scroll down.

For a few moments she ponders on ‘valuable’ and ‘invaluable’, but then her mind shifts back to Luz and Luz’s irresistible charms, her constant flirting and very heated teasing. They never went beyond caressing each other’s backs, necks, and shoulders — never got intimate. 

But Amity has envisioned it. Many more times than she’d like to admit. Sometimes even more than once a day, if she was particularly frustrated and/or Luz was especially flirty that day.

She is ashamed, always ashamed of doing _that_ while thinking of Luz, no less, not some imaginary character from a book or a show, and she is horrified what Luz would think of her if she learned about her, Amity’s, depravity.

And yet, it’s weird and exciting, especially now, realising how Luz is almost eighteen, that they might… They _actually_ might...

Amity gulps and feels warmth in all the wrong (in all the _right_ ) places. _It’s just symbolic!_ She groans mentally. _It’s not like we’re gonna… we’re gonna… right on her birthday!_

Still, what if Luz wouldn’t mind if she, Amity, just thought about that… Nurtured the possibility further… Not that it’s the first time she’s done _that_ thinking of her… It still feels embarrassing, but Amity does unzip her pants and take a pillow, hoping Luz would forgive her. Not that she’d ever tell her that… 

“Mittens, I—” 

“Get OUT!” Amity shrieks, throwing her pillow at the doorway. 

_Oh no. Oh no. Oh no._

Amity has been through a lot of horrors and danger in her life. She has faced demons, and monsters, and, well, she did play her part in taking down Belos. She has had broken bones, and ruptured muscles, and she has faced death way more than an average eighteen-year-old should. 

And yet, nothing came close to Emira walking in on her, while she was about to touch herself thinking of Luz. This, right now, is the worst, most horrifying, most humiliating experience ever imaginable. The only thing that would make it worse would be Emira _and_ Edric walking in on her, but then Amity would have to literally leave the Boiling Isles and never return.

“Amity, I’m sorry. May I come in?”

Emira’s voice is soft and apologetic, and Amity is surprised that she’s hearing her name instead of the usual ‘Mittens’. 

“You can disown me!” Amity cries out, trying to bury herself into the bed.

“Why would I disown you?” Emira’s voice behind the door sounds surprised.

“Because I’m a horrible pervert?” _Honestly_ , Amity thinks, _sometimes Emira can be so dense._

“You’re not a— Can I come in please? Are you decent?” 

“I’m the most indecent person ever,” Amity mumbles into the pillow. 

She hears the door creaking slightly, then the soft sounds of Emira’s slippers against the carpet, then a creak of the bed as the older sister sits next to her. “Hey, Mittens, it’s okay.”

Amity feels Emira’s hand on her back and doesn’t understand why Emira would want to touch someone so dirty and depraved. “I am horrible.” The younger witch rolls over to see Emira’s kindly eyes looking at her. “You’ve seen what I’ve done. I’ve done that… a lot.”

To her shock, Emira just smiles. She doesn’t laugh, doesn’t giggle at her, but neither does she seem stern or judging. 

“Mittens, it’s _okay_ ,” Emira looks at her little sister lovingly. “Hey, look at me.” Amity is looking. “ _Everybody_ does that. I’m serious. I do it, Edric does that, everybody does that.”

 _Ew_. Amity doesn’t need to know that, but actually, she does. She does need to know she’s not alone. She knows in the back of her mind that it’s a normal thing, and yet her anxiety is a snake whispering in her ear, and right now it’s whispering: _Yesssss, but it’sssss about_ who _you’re ththththinking about when you do ththththat._

“I’m pretty sure Luz does it too.”

Amity is no longer a cactus. She is abandoning her desert citizenship and applying to become a Beetroot. Because that’s her colour now, and she might as well just accept it.

“I mean it, Mittens. There is _nothing_ wrong with doing what you were doing. Just close the door next time.”

“I thought I did,” Amity mumbles, still dying from shame and embarrassment.

“Again, there is nothing to be ashamed of,” Emira counters, as if reading her thoughts. “Sorry I barged in. I did knock, but, um, you didn’t hear it.” Her gaze travels to the floor in slight embarrassment. “Obviously.”

“I. Um.” Amity doesn’t really want to talk about it, ever, to anyone, but if she doesn’t tell someone — someone she trusts — about her feelings for Luz, her dirty, horrible, perverted feelings — she will burst. 

And, as much as she hates to admit it, her siblings, especially the more mature and reasonable Emira, are the only people she can trust with something like that. Sure, there is also Luz’s Mom and Eda — but, well, considering the nature of the issue, those aren’t real options.

“I can’t stop thinking about Luz!” If she covers her face enough, Amity feels, it will hide her shame from the world.

Emira makes no movement to stop her or interfere in any way. “So,” the young witch hears her sister’s gentle, nudging voice. “Nothing wrong with that. You are dating, you are in love — only natural to think about your girlfriend all the time. I’m sure she thinks about you—”

“Not _those_ kind of thoughts!” 

“Oh.”

By the time Amity has the strength to look up at her sister again, she sees that Emira’s face is calm, and her trademark sisterly smile warmly radiates all about the room.

“It’s okay to have those thoughts, Mittens.” 

Amity shakes her head. 

“No, really, it’s okay. I think about Viney like that all the time.” 

Amity looks up in surprise.

Emira grins. “Even though we actually have sex a lot.”

“Ew!” 

Emira laughs, and Amity knows that this little quip was intentional, because the heavy feeling in her chest is gone and she can breathe somewhat easier now.

“So you have thought about having sex with Luz,” Emira continues. “I’d better give you the Talk, I guess.”

Amity thinks it would be better to be swallowed whole by a slitherbeast. “I… I know how to sex. I mean, how to sex girls. I mean…” 

“Aww,” Emira ruffles her sister’s hair, and the younger witch is sure that sisterly adoration is the last thing she wants right now. “Look at you, Mittens, all flustered and stuttering! So you’re gonna ask Luz to ‘sex you’. That’s so sweeeeeet~”

“Okay, okay…” Amity is _not_ happy at the prospect, but maybe the talk would help her become more grounded. Or at least not feel like dying from embarrassment or have an anxiety attack when ( _if_ ) Luz brings up the topic. And, well, knowing Luz, she might do it without giving it much thought. She is just that impulsive. Her wonderful, beautiful, impulsive Luz ‘No-second-thoughts’ Noceda. Might as well be her middle name.

“Um, Em, I _do_ know how, uh, female-on-female relationships work.” Amity the Beetroot wants to get this over with as fast as possible. “I’ve seen the, um, educational materials.”

“Aha,” Emira nods, and it’s clear she’s doing her best to hold back any possible teasing. “So you’re more curious about how to approach the subject.”

“Yes.” Amity nods back, now curling up slightly less. “The hardest part is how to talk to her about it.”

“Well, first, you gotta wait for the right moment.” The older witch scoffs at her own words. “I know it sounds cliche, but you’ll know when the moment comes. Usually it’s when you’re both calm and comfortable.”

The urge to make a chart is intensifying, but the younger sister is intent on just listening — for now.

“Then, after you’ve established that you both want each other— _Yes_ , Amity, I can bet a million snails that Luz feels the same.”

“That’s just pocket money for you,” Amity mumbles.

“Then, as I was saying, you have to talk about consent. It’s very important, because—” 

“I know what consent means,” Amity grumbles. “We talk it out beforehand, and go into it knowing what we want and what we don’t want.”

“Vague, but good enough,” Emira admits. “And remember that consent goes both ways, and both of you can always change your mind — even in the process.” 

She looks at the younger witch seriously. “I don’t want you to go through with it, only to realise this wasn’t what you wanted — when it’s too late.”

“Did you…” Amity gulps. “I mean… Have you…”

“Not quite,” Emira admits. “But there was a time when I was dating my first girlfriend and when we were having sex for the first time…” _Not the image I want to have in my mind,_ Amity thinks, looking away. “Well, there was a point when I thought we should stop but never said so. I didn’t want to disappoint her, so I, uh, faked it.”

 _DEFINITELY not the image I want to have in my mind!!_ Still, Amity asks sympathetically, “What happened then?”

“Well, afterwards, we talked about it, and, well, when she learned I went through with it without really…” Emira gulps. “She was devastated. She cried and said I should have said something. And she was right. We broke up just because I didn’t want to upset her by saying no — but I upset both of us by not voicing my concerns. Communication—”

“—is key,” comes a solemn voice from the doorway.

The two girls immediately turn their heads, only to see the eldest sibling standing there against the wall, nodding.

“EDRIC! How long have you been standing there?!” Emira shrieks.

“Long enough to hear you giving Mittens the Talk, but not long enough to know _why_ you’re giving her the Talk.” Edric grins. “Oooooh, I get it, Mittens and Luz are going to—”

“GET OUT!” Amity and Emira yell in unison. 

“Here’s the advice, Mittens.” The sisters’ warning was not, obviously, taken to heart. “Just go and give her your best pick-up line.”

“Yeah, right,” Emira huffs. “So she should just go up to Luz, stroke her cheek and ask, _is this seat taken?_ ”

Amity blinks. “I have no idea what that means and I don’t want to know. Ever.” _I will never be able to look Viney in the eyes again._ _Guess I’ll have to hang out with Jerbo and Barcus exclusively._

“Don’t listen to her, Mittens, _I’m_ the expert here.” Edric proudly beats his chest with a fist. 

“How many hours did it take you to figure out how Jerbo’s penis works?” Emira teases.

_Okay, no hanging out with Jerbo either. Ever. Again. Barcus, my only friend from now on._

“Ha!” Edric beats his chest proudly. “Joke’s on you, I’m a guy too.”

Emira’s finger is ready to draw a circle in the air. “Do you need me to cast a truth spell?”

“Three hours,” Edric mumbles. “It took me three hours.”

Emira’s victorious gaze speaks louder than any words. She turns back to Amity. “So, as I was saying, vaginal stimulation—”

“Ew ew ew!” Edric shuts his ears with his palms. “Gross! Vaginas are icky!”

“Oh,” Emira sing-songs, “but that’s why they’re the best~”

With Edric gone (and possibly traumatised for life), the eldest sister laughs. “That’s what he gets for eavesdropping. So, by the way, do you know about vaginal stimulation or—” 

“YES!” Amity covers her ears with her palms, hoping to Titan the Beetroot Nation will just claim her already. “I know everything about vaginas, thank you very much!”

“Okay,” Emira’s voice reaches through her palms, “what do you know about protection?”

Amity opens up her ears. “Em, we’re girls, we don’t need—”

“Oh, really? So you’re just going to stick your fingers inside her and roll with it?”

Amity starts hyperventilating at the image. Would she really— Well, she hadn’t thought it out in _detail_ , but yes, that’s a good start... _Okay, wait. That was clearly an example of what_ not _to do, you dummy!_

“Um…”

“Fingering is a great first time.” Emira nods. 

“Can we _not_ talk about it?” Amity tries, embarrassment washing over her like purple waves at sunset. 

“Sure, almost finished,” the older sister agrees. “You will need finger condoms though.”

Amity moans into her palms. _Too embarrassing_. _Way too embarrassing! It cannot get more embarrassing!!_

“Luckily,” Emira gets up, walking to the door, “Viney and I still have a pack of finger condoms. They are rare to come by, so I’m gonna leave them on your nightstand.”

Amity groans, her face still covered as she’s peeking through her fingers. _Okay, it can get more embarrassing! It just did!_

Emira is almost out of the door, then suddenly something strikes Amity. _Wait a minute…_ “Em, you started dating Viney when you were seventeen.”

“Yes?”

“So…” Amity frowns, gears rolling in her mind. “She’s your second girlfriend—”

“I prefer to think of her as my first and only fiancee,” the older sister breaks into a grin.

“—and,” Amity continues, “you say the situation with your first girlfriend…” _Oh my Titan!_ She gasps. “You sexed your first girlfriend when you were sixteen!”

Emira doesn’t seem flustered and only shrugs. “Yes, the age of consent is sixteen. And we were both dumb.” She knocks on wood. “So you have the advantage of being older and wiser.” 

Amity just nods, unsure of what to think, ready to process the whole conversation piece-by-piece. Maybe even make a chart. _Definitely_ make a chart.

“Also, Mittens, you _gotta_ stop using the word ‘sex’ as a verb.”

_______________

  
“Gertruda?” 

“Nope.”

“Jasmine?”

“Nu-uh.”

“Rosalia?”

“Okay, that’s it.” Luz throws herself at the green-haired witch and, even though Amity is (objectively) more athletic, she still succumbs with a yelp and is now pinned under her girlfriend’s body.

Which, coincidentally, is the hottest thing ever. 

What happens next is a worthy contender. As she closes her eyes, Amity feels the human’s hands on the bottom of her crop top— Nope, not her hands! 

Luz is kissing her belly button, and Amity thinks that okay, this is both the best and the worst feeling in the world. It’s the best because she loves Luz more than physically possible. It’s the worst because Luz doesn’t know that she, Amity, desires Luz in more ways than one. Actually, she has a secret chart with all the ways she desires Luz in.

“Every time you guess my middle name wrong, I’m kissing your belly!” Luz announces victoriously. _Ever so playful._

Amity should definitely stop the guessing game. Even though their bench is in a pretty secluded area, someone might walk by, and then Amity will be forever a Beetroot. And she prefers being a Blight, even though the other two Blights are idiots not to be associated with. 

Yes, she will definitely stop the guessing game.

“Monica?”

 _And here we go again!_ It’s very interesting, Amity thinks as she ceases to exist under Luz’s lips, that most of their time together is spent on benches. This one, of course, being the best bench ever. But also the school bench, even the bench under the Grom tree — though, with Luz being something of a celebrity and an established entrepreneur, that bench is usually occupied by other couples who will just bother Luz for an autograph or a photo. 

“Andrea?”

Luz doesn’t even lift her lips, giving Amity’s abs a tiny bite. 

Amity moans.

_Oh no._

Amity moans, and Luz lifts her lips.

_Oh no._

“Um, Ames? Did you, um, moan?”

_Oh no._

Amity jolts up in horror. All her nightmares are true now, Luz will dump her because she is a horrible perverted demon and she will forever have to live as an exile because she will never love life again and— 

“Huh.” Luz’s grin contradicts all of those fears. “I guess I should do that more often, you seem to enjoy that a lot.”

“We need to talk,” Amity blurts out. _Yes, perfect timing. Calm and collected._

“Okay.” Luz sits up with a straight back, looking at her girlfriend intently. “Did I mess up?”

“No!” Amity shouts, reaching for the human to put her hands on hers.

“No,” she repeats softer. “Luz, I, I messed up. But you need to know. You know how much I love you—”

“And I love you too.” The tiny squeeze from Luz’s hands is reassuring. 

“But I have been having very dirty thoughts about you.”

There. She said it. Now she can escape to the exile. As a matter of fact, why is her chest breathing normally and her heart no longer gripped by anxiety?

 _Huh._ Amity must be finally going insane. There’s no other explanation. She should be horrified, and yet she is calm as she hasn’t been for a long time. 

“What kind of thoughts?” The curiosity in Luz’s tone is astounding. “Like, when _I_ think about having sex with you, it’s usually you topping me in your Grudgby jacket and then we enchant some human sex toys and—”

“W-what.”

Amity falls silent, because she is way too confused about everything that’s going on. Perhaps exile would be better, if only because she wouldn’t have to comprehend things.

“Well, you said you were thinking _very_ dirty thoughts about me,” Luz clarifies happily, “so I was wondering if they are dirtier than my thoughts about you.”

The human’s face is lighting up with happiness. “Honestly, Amity, I’m so glad you feel that way too. I was really concerned you might not ever want to have sex with me.”

“What.”

“Did I screw up my grammar again?” Luz taps her lips in thought. “Well, I mean, do you want to to have sex with me?”

“Right now?

Amity is confused, so she should be allowed to be an idiot. Moreover, she has a Curse, so she should be allowed to act like an idiot.

Luz chuckles at her girlfriend’s flushed face. “Wow, we never really talked about it, have we.”

“You gave me a hickey,” Amity mumbles, rubbing her belly as she shuts off from the conversation entirely, completely, 100% unsure of what is going on.

“Well,” Luz grins, showing the back of her neck. “You gave me these scratches.”

Functioning is a hard enough feat, but functioning when Luz shows her the scratches with which she, Amity, marked her girlfriend, is too much of a feat for Amity’s brain. So it shuts down. “Haa… Ah. Uhm.”

“I find it very hot when you do that.” Luz winks, and Amity’s brain suddenly has a coffin around it. A very hard coffin that for some reason gets hit? 

Oh, that’s just Amity’s skull colliding with the ground as she falls off the bench. _Nothing new._

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Ames!”

Luz lifts the green-haired witch up, and the hit seems to have put all the screws in Amity’s brain in the right place.

“You are attracted to me?” Amity says as if it is the most unbelievable thing ever. Because it is. “Like, sexually attracted?”

Luz blinks, taken aback. “Yes, of course I am. I mean, I have been thinking about having sex with you for over a year already.”

“You don’t hate me?” Amity whispers.

“Why would I ever hate you?” 

“Because I have wanted to sex you for a whole year! And I’ve been thinking about sexing you! A lot! Even while I was sexing myself!”

Luz doesn’t seem bothered at all, smiling happily as she pretty much always does (apart from the times when she is scared or sad or angry), but this time the smile looks… sultry?

“Ames, I find it so attractive that you use ‘sex’ as a verb.”

“Meep!” Amity says.

“And I find it even more attractive that you want to ‘sex’ _me_.”

“Meep,” Amity agrees.

“So I think we should really talk about it when you’re ready.”

“I’m ready, I was born ready, I’m _so_ ready!” Amity exclaims. Then, in a meeker tone, she adds, “are _you_ ready to talk about it?” 

“Yes.” Luz giggles. “Every time we hit a big issue, we both get lost in communication. How about we have this talk at the Owl House on my birthday? If you want, you can stay over.”

“Um.” Amity is not sure it’s the best idea, what with all the people and the festivities. “Weren’t you planning a huge party?”

“Eh.” Luz shrugs. “I _am_ throwing a party at the weekend, but my birthday falls on a Thursday this year, so what’s the point? Actually,” she adds rather sheepishly (which, for her, is unusual), “I was planning on spending the actual day with you.

“And ditch classes?” Amity gasps, mockingly putting her hands on her heart. Which, by the way, is no longer racing. Because thinking Luz would hate her for actually _wanting_ her was a really stupid line of thinking. Something that Amity is really proficient at.

“Well, since we will have a sex-related talk, we can count it as sex ed?” Luz winks, and the witch laughs, feeling light and happy, no longer burdened by guilt. “And, by the way, no matter how the talk goes, you _gotta_ tell me if your fantasies are dirtier than mine!”

“Oh, um.” Now, after hearing Luz out, it all sounds really silly. “Well, no, uh, I just think of your fingers caressing me in all the intimate places,” Amity provides. “Nothing like your very detailed, eh, scenarios.”

Luz laughs, and well, it’s a nice laugh to hear. It’s always nice, but now it has a certain ring to it. “Okay, okay. So? Ready to ditch classes tomorrow _and_ on my birthday?” 

Amity doesn’t tell Luz that every time she misses classes, she turns in a separate project for every single skipped lesson. Instead, she tells her: “I would ditch breathing for you.”

“Please don’t, Ames.” Luz grins. “You’ll need it for the sex.”

“I hate you, Rosemary.”

“That’s not even a name.”

_______________

“This is really weird.”

“What?” Luz is running her fingers absent-mindedly through Amity’s hair, which she hasn’t dyed in a while, so her streaks of brown are visible in the dim lighting of the room. 

“Talking about it right after we celebrated your birthday,” Amity admits.

“We don’t have to talk about it now if you feel uneasy.” Luz is ever so supportive, so gallant, so wonderful. _How can I ever not love her for a second?_ “I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“I love you so much you can’t imagine,” Amity whispers as she kisses her girlfriend’s collarbone, shifting closer to her under the blanket. 

The cooling spell is working well, and it’s getting chilly, so Amity pulls up the blanket — which is just another excuse to press her body against the human’s.

“I can imagine.” Luz returns the kiss, placing her lips on Amity’s head. “Because I love you the same.”

The day has been so perfect. Unusually peaceful and quiet for a birthday, especially _Luz’s_ birthday — of all people. Wading through the market aimlessly, her buying Luz every single trinket that caught the human girl’s eye, then making dinner together in the Owl House, having all the wrong ingredients, getting more instructions wrong than right — and yet the dinner was perfect too, because she had it with Luz, curled up on the sofa, reading. 

And now that she’s in Luz’s bed — an ideal night to wrap up the ideal evening — Amity is worried she’s gonna be too pushy, or too timid, or too shallow.

“Emira gave me a sex ed talk, can you believe it?” Amity mumbles, hoping that’s not the weirdest way to start a conversation like this.

“Eh,” Luz shrugs, “Eda gave me a sex ed talk too.”

“Really?” 

Over the years, the idea that Eda is a very irresponsible person has solidified in Amity’s mind. Eda is nice, she is great, she is the strongest witch _ever_ , and she will protect Luz and King with her life. And yet, well, in everything domestic, she seems pretty irresponsible. Also the only person in both realms that can burn water. 

“Yeah, she said, ‘If she’s drunk and says yes, it doesn’t mean she consents, okay gotta go, just put your fingers in her and roll with it’.”

 _Ah, okay. Sounds like Eda._ Amity giggles.

“Yeah, but my Mom gave me a better talk, so I’m good.”

Amity nods. She’s known Camila slightly less than Eda, and, while their interactions have mostly been Luz’s Mom gushing over Amity’s good grades, or Amity’s wonderful charts, or stuffing Amity with delicious food until Amity is unable to move — and then providing dessert, Camila has firmly installed herself in the witch’s mind as the Mother she never had. Kind, caring, loving, and altogether wonderful, attentive, and determined. _Luz is blessed to have such a Mother. And I am blessed to know her through Luz._

“Okay, I know how flustered you get sometimes, so I’ll try to make it the least embarrassing for you,” Luz promises. _Which means it’s gonna be extremely embarrassing._ “Let’s take it slow.”

So they will take it slow, Amity thinks, cradled in her girlfriend’s embrace, nuzzling into her collarbone. They will talk it out step by step, establish consent, maybe make a chart with preferences? _Yes, a chart sounds perfect_. Then, like calculating adults— 

“So, Amity. Since we’re now both technically adults, I’ve been meaning to ask.” Luz clears her throat. “Um. If you say no, nothing will change and I will love you all the same! I was just wondering if you want to have sex with me.”

Amity is dead. 

“I mean, I think about you all the time and, well, you told me that so do you. Again, feel free to say no, and if you say yes, but, you know, wanna stop at any time, we’ll stop.”

Amity is _so_ dead.

“And you don’t have to do it at all, please don’t feel pressured. After all—”

“Yes.” Amity is dead, but still responding.

“Sorry, Ames, what do you—”

“Titan, yes, yes, yes. _Please_ , you _know_ I’ve been thinking about it _so much_.” 

Luz is grinning ear to ear — that’s gotta be a good sign, right?

“Oh,” the birthday girl muses. “That’s good. That you’ve been thinking about us.” The grin reappears again after each phrase. “That you’ve been thinking of us _doing it_.” Luz’s fingers trace Amity’s side, slowly rolling beneath the shirt. 

“You’ve been thinking about it _a lot_ , huh?” The fingers don’t retract, and Amity is slowly coming back to life. “Well,” Luz carries on, “as I have mentioned, I’ve been thinking about that a lot too. Sometimes twice a day.”

Amity is in limbo, but she is entirely comfortable with that if Luz never takes her fingers off her body. “Please sex me,” she blurts out without registering it.

“Um, right now?” Luz stops her motions but, thankfully, does not take her fingers off. “Don’t you want to, like, make a chart with preferences?"

“Yes!” Amity exclaims, crawling down from Limbo to the Boiling Isles. “I mean, a chart would be perfect, but. Um. I don’t know if I can physically wait any longer. If… If you _really_ want to, I mean,” she finishes bashfully.

“Hm.” Luz is lost in thought, for once, and Amity is terrified if the human suddenly decides to leave her, abandon her, feed her to the feral dogs of Tartarus, throw her— “How about we just see what happens? I mean, we don’t have to really _do it_ tonight, but we can try and see what we like and what works?”

The human sits up, and so does the witch. Their eyes are interlocked, and so are their hands. The ambience around them isn’t filled with electricity, like Amity imagined. But neither is it the dreaded calculating tension that she feared. 

“Yes, please,” Amity replies calmly and smiles. “Let’s at least maybe… Um. I mean, let’s not go too far, but maybe let’s start with seeing each other naked? So we can get used to it and not feel weird when we actually… um. When we sex each other.”

“You _do_ realise it’s adorable when you use it as a verb, right?” Luz leans in to press a kiss on Amity’s lips, and the witch realises it’s been too long, way too long since the last one. “That sounds like a great start to me. We can take it step by step, day by day, week by week if necessary.”

 _Yes, we can do that_ , the not-so dead Amity thinks. _Yes, we can definitely do that._ She nods several times.

“Amity, _love_ ,” Luz starts, and the forces of Limbo drag Amity back. “I know we understand each other without words, but I think express consent is _really_ important for what we’re planning to do.”

Amity is in awe. She has seen Luz be serious before, of course. She saw Luz help the Owl Gang (a.k.a. The Bad Girl Coven) take down Emperor Belos and install Lilith as the ruler. She saw Luz work day and night to recreate the portal into the human world and — what was even harder — regain her mother’s trust. She saw Luz establish the first human-witch import/export company, and now, mostly thanks to her, inter-realm trade is booming. _Even in this horrible economy, as Emira always says._

But this, this here, was too much. Luz was being too perfect. People weren’t allowed to be this perfect! And yet, here she was, her perfect girlfriend.

“Okay.” Amity nods. “Luz, I think today we can start with the, um. Undressing stuff.” 

“Okay.” Luz nods too. “Let’s wait a bit.” She puts her hands on Amity’s. “Is this all right?”

The green-haired witch blinks in surprise. “Um, yes. I mean, why wouldn’t it be?”

“I’m just asking.” Luz smiles with warmth and kindness. “This is a big step for us, and I know _I_ really want it, but I want to be sure you want it too.”

“Okay.” Amity smiles back, finally escaping Limbo. “I understand.”

The two girls sit there for a while in silence. Half a minute. A minute. Finally, Amity coughs. “Um, what are we waiting for?”

“I’m just giving you a moment to think,” Luz replies earnestly. “Just in case you reconsider.”

“Luz…” Amity gulps, doubts surfacing in her mind as the gates of Limbo reopen. “Do you… Um. Do you not want to undress? Are _you_ uncertain?”

Luz does a sharp inhale — which, for some strange reason, is usually followed by a very loud ‘BOI’. Human slang is, indeed, weird. Especially considering that most of the people Luz is saying this to aren’t, well, boys. 

But this time, she just exhales slowly. “I’m sorry, Ames, I was so excited I think I just confused us both. I would like to see your beautiful body more than anything in the world, and show mine in return. Tonight. But I need to be sure you want it to.”

The gates of Limbo shut down as the witch regains her determination. “Luz. I literally — and I mean literally, not metaphorically — have never wanted anything more than to undress with you. I think your body is the most beautiful art object in the universe, and I want to see it. And I want you to see me, bare and naked.” A tiny Emira appears in her mind, showing her tongue and chanting: _Cringe! Cringe! Cringe!_

“Okay, I guess that’s consensual enough!” Luz claps her hands together, much to Amity’s disappointment as she takes them away from the witch. “We’ll start piece by piece, starting with our shirts, okay? And every time you or I feel uncomfortable, we’re gonna say it and maybe get dressed again. With no hard feelings. Deal?”

“Deal,” Amity responds, thinking about how the only hard feelings she wants to have is feeling her girlfriend’s body. Hard. Still, she is thankful for the aforementioned girlfriend dragging her into and subsequently out of Limbo.

“Great!” Luz grins, taking off her shirt so casually that Amity chokes on air. “So I guess, eventually, these finger condoms Eda gave me will come in handy one day!”

_And back to Limbo I go._

____________

“Do you have any STDs?”

Amity has always thought spitting out tea was either a comic relief in movies or a result of particularly hot tea. Yet, she’s not in a movie, and the tea is lukewarm, and she still ends up spitting it on the floor. Well, not the floor; rather, on Eda’s shirt lying there in the corner. _Eda’s gonna murder me. And no one will find my body. And I need my body to sex Luz._

“No, of course not!” The witch wants to say more, but quietly exhales. They’ve been going over their ‘perfect pre-sex preparations’ for a week already, only taking a break over the weekend, during Luz’s birthday party.

Amity is actually _very_ proud of her girlfriend for not telling Willow or Gus about that. However, knowing Willow and Gus, they probably somehow already know. Thankfully, they’re not the Twins, so they never tease or out anyone. _Almost never._

Luz is not just an adult, she’s more _mature_ , and it’s been happening… well, ever since she defeated Belos, to be frank. But Amity likes to think, deep down, that perhaps it might be her influence too. _Hope that isn’t just me being too vain._

“We’re both virgins, Luz.” Amity scoots slightly closer to the human. “I’m more than sure we _cannot_ have STDs.”

“Look, I’m just following your chart!” Luz’s arms fly up in exasperation.

Amity can’t stand it any longer, so she leans in to kiss her wonderful human. Luz is adorable _and_ amazing _and_ hot _and_ smart _and_ almost-responsible. And Luz going through her charts already feels almost as intimate as sex.

“Let’s skip this one, then,” Amity suggests upon the kiss as she remains adjacent to the human, basking in her body heat. “What’s next?”

“Hmm…” Luz flicks through the numerous charts, then throws them across her shoulder with a grin. “Done! We’re through with the charts!”

“Great, that’s what I like to hear most!” Amity clenches her first enthusiastically. 

“I thought it was ‘I love you, darling’ when I say it?” Luz is batting her eyelashes, and Amity almost feels guilty. Then again, charts have been with her longer than Luz, and her familial relation to them is stronger than the bond with Edric and Emira.

“Yes, of course,” Amity lies. “Okay!” She claps her hands.

“Okay!” Luz reiterates happily.

Amity fidgets around in glee, expecting. Finally they are going to—! It’s been a week, and the young witch has been really intent on making it the most perfect experience for Luz — and Luz told her she was gonna do the same for her. 

So… Why isn’t anything happening? The silence isn’t really deafening, the House is never fully silent (Amity shudders at the image of Hooty singing), but everything suddenly feels… off. 

“So, um.” It’s clear Luz is somewhat unsettled too. “Are you feeling The Mood?”

“Um,” Amity replies, shifting in place and listening to her gut. “Not really.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Luz touches her lower belly, as if to check. “I guess we can watch some porn together?”

“Some what?” Amity blinks.

“Um, porn? I mean… Have you literally never watched…” Luz cuts herself short, mid-phrase. “It’s, uh, a human thing. Videos of naked people having sex.”

“ _Why_ would you have such a thing?” Amity is not appalled, but she is shocked, to say the least.

“Humans are weird.” Yes, that’s Luz’s go-to phrase that magically explains everything. 

“We have porn for, well… I mean, you told me you have, uh…” the human tries a different angle. “Um, explored yourself?” she asks bashfully, and it’s one of the very rare cases when Amity can witness her girlfriend this flustered.

“Of course I have,” Amity agrees, this time feeling easier about the topic, following last week’s confession.

“And, um, what do you… I mean, usually when you, um, do that, you watch porn.” Luz is tugging at her shirt’s collar for some reason. Is it itchy? “That’s why I’m asking.”

“I usually just think of you,” Amity says simply. And then she _thinks_ of her.

It’s getting hotter in the room for some reason, and she feels like taking off her shirt. So she does without really thinking. Ever since she and Luz have seen each other naked, they’ve been comfortable with each other, regularly taking off pieces of clothing without shame.

Luz gulps, then looks at her girlfriend, her gaze lingering on Amity’s bare neck and shoulders, then switches to her bra, then her exceptionally well-toned abdomen. “Uuuuuuhm.” 

Amity chuckles, and then, suddenly, Luz takes off her shirt too. The temperature in the room skyrockets. The cooling spell must be broken, Amity thinks, but no, she doesn’t really think, she just stares at Luz like her life depends on it. Her life probably does depend on it, she realises as she cannot look away.

“I, um. I’m in the mood?” Amity suggests.

Luz jumps up and races upstairs. Then stops and looks back at Amity. “That’s your cue,” she explains as Amity’s brain is turning into a puddle of lust and Luz. “You’re supposed to run with me, that’s how much in-the-mood I am.”

_Oh. Ooooooooh._

_______________

“Emira?”

“Oh, you were thinking about your sister while we were having sex.” Luz nods intently. “Makes sense, I was thinking about her too.”

“LUZ!”

Luz is grinning, Amity nestled indignantly in her armpit. Even though she is seething, the witch just clarifies, “I mean, is your middle name Emira?”

“No, my middle name is not Emira.” Luz kisses Amity’s forehead, and the still-discheveled (but no-longer-panting) girl melts even further. _A few more kisses and I’m gonna be a puddle of jelly._

“Look, Ames,” Luz’s breath is hot and blissful and Amity needs it to live, “I know I used to have a crush on your siblings _years ago_ , but it died the moment I developed a crush on _you_.”

Amity purrs, because this wonderful human is making her feel even more special — if that was even possible. “When was that?” 

Amity wants to hear so much more about how much Luz loves her — even though over the past hour Luz has said that a lot. And, well, proved it. A lot.

“When I saw you reading to those children in the library.” Luz’s loving gaze is even more enticing at the moment than her naked form peeking from beneath the blanket. The human sees it and the blanket starts sliding down a bit.

Okay, no, Luz’s body is _definitely_ more enticing. _Titan, I’m so shallow, drawn to her body when there is a whole world beneath that— aaand her chest is peeking out._ Amity doesn’t mind being shallow anymore. 

Suddenly, Amity’s smile fades as a realisation hits her. _No way._ “Wait, are you telling me you were crushing on me longer than I was crushing on you?”

“It’s not a competition, Ames. And I’m still crushing on you every day.” Luz repeats her kissing gesture, and the warmth on Amity’s forehead feels almost better than the sex they’ve just had. Almost.

“But,” Luz stretches, releasing the green-haired witch from her embrace, “if it _were_ a competition, I’d be winning.”

“Luz Patricia Noceda!”

“Nope. Not ‘Patricia’ either. Oh, that reminds me.” Luz rolls over, much to Amity’s displeasure, and starts typing on her scroll.

Maybe it’s the newfound intimacy — or just the fact that Luz isn’t hiding the screen — but Amity looks at her girlfriend’s scroll.

_Wait. “Best Bro Forever”? Who’s that? Does Luz have a brother I didn’t know about?_

The words appear:

_Hey, Ed! I just had sex. And it felt so good! See ya._

Amity does not know what to think. She’s too tired, her body is pleasantly exhausted, and her mind just wants to take a vacation away from the Boiling Isles.

“What?” Luz sees her girlfriend’s turmoil. “Edric asked me to tell him when we ‘cross that line’!”

“When?” Amity groans. More questions surface, the foremost being _WHY_ , but, with her brain on vacation, the witch doesn’t want to analyse or think over _anything_ , much less her girlfriend ( _partner?)_ telling Edric about their first time.

“About two years ago, when he made a schedule for our relationship.”

“He _what_.” Amity does not even have the power to yell. _What kind of sick, twisted— Well, it_ is _my brother after all._

“Frankly, Ames,” Luz puts the scroll down as soon as a thumbs-up emoji appears on it, “he is pretty on-spot with those predictions. According to Ed, you and I are gonna get married in five years.”

The green-haired witch rubs her eyelids, exhaling very slowly. “Patricia, I can’t even.”

“Still not Patricia~”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the positive reception! I am pleasantly surprised that people have actually found this story of mine, read it, and even left kudos. It's an honour and a privilege, thank you very much! 
> 
> Oh, and you can always leave a comment if you want to — I am always very, very happy to read them and I try to reply to each one. It's humbling and inspiring that you guys are reading my story, leaving kudos, and commenting. Thank you.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amity is ready to move in with Luz. Luz is ready to move in with Amity. The twins are not ready to let their little sister go. Amity is determined, Edric is a crying mess, and Emira is very, very rich. Amity is getting even better at Spanish. (No, she isn’t.)

“So you’re the witch who’s been sleeping with my sister!”

Amity stops, grumbling, while Luz doesn’t even dignify the remark with a response, throwing off her boots and walking past the cross-looking man into the apartment.

“Edric, Luz and I have been dating for _five years_.” Amity sighs, and her boots end up neatly on the shoe-stand. Which _screams_ to be repainted, glaring at newcomers with peeled-off silver.

“We’re _twenty_.” The scarf goes off, and the young witch wraps it around the hanger. Which is holding up much better than the stand, because _all_ the paint has already peeled off, so now it can pass off as a minimalist item.

“You have known her for almost seven years.” And the jacket flies on the hanger with trained precision. “Why, oh _why_ do you say this _every time_ I bring my girlfriend around?!”

“Because I can!” Ed grins victoriously, his stupid face accentuated by a comically plain blue necktie worn loosely over a V-cut T-shirt. “It never gets old.”

“It does,” Amity sighs, pushing past her brother. “And so are you.”

Edric immediately starts checking for grey hairs, and the two girls pass the corridor, chuckling to themselves. 

The past five years dating Luz have been pure bliss, Amity muses to herself, crossing the familiar living room — worthy of being called a ballroom in size if not splendour — into the kitchen, which is the size of an apartment all in itself. 

Emira’s choice of housing has pretty much always eluded her. It was clear that none of the siblings wanted something akin to a mansion, given the resemblance to the old house of their parents — that never really felt like a _home_. But buying out two full floors in a condo and spending months on remodelling to create what is probably the biggest two-storey flat in all of Bonesborough, if not the Boiling Isles… Well, that was an interesting residential decision.

Still, she has gotten used to this place over the years. It is never empty, and yet, with all the space, it is never crowded. She can bring Luz over, and they always have a corner to themselves, and if they don’t — like when Edric is being mushy around Jerbo or Viney hitting on Emira even though they are _married_ — Amity can always take Luz to her (extremely spacious) bedroom. Or — if they are being particularly frisky — take her to the jacuzzi in her en-suite bathroom. 

That’s the one thing she’s grateful to Edric for: insisting that every bedroom have a private bathroom with a jacuzzi. 

Luz, as Amity knows, already feels at home in the Blight residence: the human is humming as she’s rummaging through the fridge, fishing out carb-heavy snacks. Emira has a preference for human foods, and Luz is all too happy to get a taste of home. Even though she visits the human realm, like, every month. 

And Amity is all too happy to get a taste of Luz as her lips collide with her girlfriend’s neck, and Luz giggles, shooing the witch away.

“Come on, Ames, I’m trying to snack on some Pop-tarts!” 

“Mmm,” says Amity, whose diet is way too severe for Pop-tarts after six, “and I’m trying to snack on some human.”

“Aren’t I way too much sugar for you?” Luz teases, and Amity almost doesn’t blush as she keeps her (now sealed) lips on Luz’s tender skin, feeling the upper traps beneath.

 _Honestly, how does she keep so in shape with all those carbs and sugars?_ That has always eluded Amity. 

“Bro, keep the pop-tarts in the fridge! They’re for Movie night!”

“I’m not your brother, I’m your sister,” Amity shouts back. It’s honestly ridiculous just how big the first floor of their apartment is, being an open space at that. 

“I’m not talking to you, Mittens.”

 _Of course._ Amity pinches her nose between her thumb and index finger — a habit she has picked up from Emira. She is starting to look awfully like Emira, which is scary. And more than a bit like Edric, which is horrifying. “Luz, are you _really_ okay with Ed calling you that?”

The human stares at her witch in disbelief. “Of course! We’re bros, why wouldn’t I be?” And, as if to prove her point, she yells into the corridor, “Sure thing, bro, but who keeps Pop-tarts in the fridge?”

“I do!” Edric shouts back.

_Just… Just walk over here, you idiot._

“Don’t you want me to put them in the freezer, bro?” Luz shouts into what seems to be Amity’s brain core.

“I’m gonna toast them later, bro, keep them in the fridge so they get extra soggy!”

 _I just can’t._ Amity waddles into the living room — which does take a few seconds — and plops down on the sofa. With all that space, they could have placed more sofas or at least a couch, but Viney and Emira like the carpet, and Edric and Jerbo like… whatever those two weirdos like. 

“Where’s Emira?” Luz asks as she walks into the living room with a Pop-tart on a plate. _Ever so fancy._ “Isn’t she here for movie night?”

“I take offence to that!” the eldest Blight exclaims, entering the room as well, his shorts and flip-flops such a stark contrast to his tie and shirt that Amity really just wishes Edric would still wear his uniform. “It’s not like Em and I are two peas in a pod. We are separate people with separate interests and separate lives!”

“Sheesh, bro, I’m sorry.” Nope, Luz does _not_ seem sorry as her teeth sink into the Pop-tart. “Mmm, apple blood flavour. I love that we now make witch-flavoured snacks.”

“Just kidding,” Edric shrugs, pulling out his scroll, “Em is picking up Viney so they can outvote me on snacks. Those fancy witches and their chicken wings.“

“They’re bringing over chicken wings?” Luz’s eyes shine with amazement, and Amity’s own amazement is much stronger. How in the world can her human be excited about something like… this.

“They’re not even chicken wings,” Amity remarks from her resting spot on the sofa. “They’re just frozen chicken tenders in the shape of boneless wings.”

“Vote for me, Luz,” Edric whispers, “Vote for Pop-tarts! And coax your girlfriend to vote for me too. Then, together, we shall rule the galaxy!”

“I’m not just her girlfriend. I’m your sister,” Amity groans, “and it’s infuriating how you and Em are always… like this.”

“Well, I guess Em and I are pretty tight, huh?” Edric’s grin is way too prideful, considering he’s just been dished out an insult.

“Well, I don’t know about Emira,” Luz chimes in, plopping down next to Amity ( _on_ Amity), “but Jerbo told me in confidence that _you_ are pretty _tight_ , Ed.”

Colour leaves Edric’s face while Amity tries to understand what’s going on. _What does she mean, ‘tight’?_ She doesn’t even try to push Luz off herself. Not only is her weight comforting, Amity is rather proud of her strength and athletic composition.

“Luz, I thought we were bruhs,” Edric spits out with sorrow, shaking his head. “But turns out you’re just fam.”

_What does she mean, ‘tight’?_

“That’s not how the vine goes, and you know it.” Luz takes another bite of her Pop-tart.

“What do you mean, tight?” Amity finally says out loud, wishing she’d kept it to herself.

Luz just wiggles her eyebrow, and, after a moment of blissful nothingness, Amity gets it. _No no no no no no nonononononononononono—_

“Luz!” she yells, covering her ears, as if it can make her unhear that. “I’m his sister — I _can’t_ _know_ that!!!”

“Now you do,” Luz laughs innocently, Pop-tart crumbs flying all around. 

Amity feels like throwing up and signing up for therapy at the same time. “You’re gonna vacuum the sofa,” she rolls over, pushing Luz off.

“I can vacuum _you_ ,” Luz wiggles her eyebrow.

“That doesn’t even make sense, Georgina.”

“Not Georgina~” Luz sing-songs, eating the remains of the Pop-tart off the carpet. _Ew. Also aww. But mostly just ew._

“I’m home!” Emira’s voice resonates from the corridor, and the mixed laughter of three people reaches Amity’s ears, which perk up slightly as she is watching Luz make obscene slurping noises with her mouth. 

“I’m a sexy vacuum,” the human whispers in a seductive manner. 

With a slow blink, Amity just draws her close to silence the stupidity with a kiss. _By Titan, she’s twenty._

“I brought alcohol!” Emira’s announcement brings joy to Edric _and_ Luz as the two perk up, faces lit with happiness, while Emira puts the wine into the wine cabinet.

Edric wipes off a tear. “I have the best sister in the world.”

“Hey, I’m also your sister!” Amity remarks, used to these antics, but also just a tiny bit offended.

“Well,” Edric reasons, “you didn’t bring alcohol!”

“And I brought Jerbo!” Viney announces, walking into the living room with her friend close by. “It was our day hanging out with Barcus, and yet our wonderful spouses managed to ruin that.”

Now Edric is full-on crying. “I have the best sister-in-law in the world.”

“Come on, it’s almost seven!” Luz urges, trying to grab as many pop-tarts from the fridge. “No, bro!” A slap on Edric’s wrist. “No time to toast them, we’ll have to eat like savages!”

Amity smiles, shaking her head. _I have the best girlfriend in the world._ “Luz, you’re the most ridiculous, the most amazing person in the world,” she says, grabbing her partner by the shoulder.

Luz nods. “ _And_ a sexy vacuum.”

Edric sniffs again. It doesn’t take him much to start crying, Amity muses. “Luz, you’re like the sister I never had.”

 _You have two sisters, you dimwit,_ Amity blanks as Emira just stares at the crying Blight in disbelief.

Viney comes strutting by, wrapping her arm around Emira’s waist. “Ready for movie night, _wife_?”

“Ooooh, I’m _so_ ready, _wife_ ,” Emira replies, and the two women kiss passionately — in front of the whole crew — their bodies pressed against each other.

Amity is very thankful they have such a giant apartment, because if these two were blocking her way, she wouldn’t have any second thoughts about tripping them down.

“Get a room, you two,” the young witch mumbles in embarrassment for her sister. At least she and Luz never do something like this in public.

“Come on, cut us some slack, Mittens,” Emira grins, happiness in every feature. Amity wouldn’t admit it openly, but she is so glad Em is more delighted, cheerful, and light-hearted nowadays. The past five years have been extremely taxing for her, what with the graduation, and all of the work. _And ‘this horrible economy’._

“Yes, we’re newlyweds!” Viney chirps in, leading Emira towards their spot on the carpet. Why they don’t ever just buy another sofa eludes Amity.

“You’ve been married for—”

“Come on, Mittens, when Luz and you get married, you’ll see~” Emira coos, and the younger sister suddenly feels very hot — even though she set the cooling spell herself. 

“Are you okay, Amity?” Viney questions, pressing the back of her palm against Amity’s (very red) forehead. “Doesn’t seem like a fever. Want me to check you up?”

“No,” the youngest Blight mumbles in shame and sheer horror as images surface in her mind: Luz in a cute suit, grabbing her by the waist as she is in her purple wedding dress, rings shining on their fingers, tying them up in eternal love…

“Aww, is it your curse again?” Luz quips innocently, apparently having missed the mention of a possible wedding. “You’ve been doing so well over the past couple of years, baby!”

Luz should _not_ have called Amity ‘baby’. It’s only making the curse worse.

“You know how much I love you, _mi amor_.”

 _Not_ helping.

“Wanna guess my middle name again?” Luz grins, offering her girlfriend a Pop-tart as the rest of the Blight family (and co.) settle down on the carpet, leaving the sofa to the youngest couple. “It usually helps you.”

Amity gazes at her human with sheer love and admiration. Luz is always her stone, her foundation, the one that keeps her safe, strong, and grounded. She might be the calculating one, but Luz is the one that keeps her alive. Amity feels that it’s impossible to love anyone any more than she loves Luz.

“Is it ‘Bright’?” Amity feels breathless, almost weightless, and doesn’t give a hoot if the twins are staring at her in their usual manner. “I mean, your middle name is actually Luz and your first name is Bright. So your name is Bright Light.”

“Aww, Amity, you’re adorable!” Luz reaches across the sofa to put her head in the witch’s lap, and the witch in question starts combing the wonderful human hair with her fingers — which always feels more intimate than a brush or a spell. “ _And_ those Spanish lessons are paying off!”

Amity does not mean to boast, but she has gotten _significantly_ better at Spanish. Considering that her previous level was below zero, she is now proudly hovering somewhere above the mark.

“So,” Luz grins. “If that _were_ the case, you’d want my name to be Bright Blight after we get married?”

Up to this point, Amity has been certain she was over being hopelessly flustered because of Luz. Just a moment ago, she was sure the short come-back of the Curse was just residue. Turns out, that isn’t quite the case as she tumbles over, hyperventilating, half-sliding off the sofa.

“Amity!” Luz calls out in concern, reaching behind the sofa to lift her girlfriend back. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to imply something like this!”

“Th-thank you.” Amity sits up and clears her throat “It’s, uh, it’s just that—”

“I totally understand, Amity.” Luz nods solemnly. “It was weird of me to assume.”

The witch clings closer to her human as her expression softens up. _Luz is always so excitable, of course she would jump to something like marriage. We’re only twenty, she probably didn’t even mean it._ “It’s okay, Luz, this is something—”

“I mean, of course you might want to take _my_ name instead.”

Now, Amity thinks, it is socially acceptable for her to faint. So she does.

_______________

“So, because _someone_ is whipped, we had to postpone the movie,” Emira grumbles, flicking through the channels on the human invention. 

Despite humans adding more magic to their devices — with the help of the factory Luz set up and Edric now owns — the TV remote still remains a weird and complicated staple of the human culture. _At Ed’s factory, they are enchanting cellphones, spoons, and crocks, for Titan’s sake — why not enchant the remotes?_

“By _someone_ Em, you obviously mean yourself,” Edric shows his tongue from the safety of Jerbo’s lap. Sometimes it’s adorable how attached he is to his boyfriend. _Especially when he stands up to his little sister. Otherwise, he is just obnoxious._

“Nu-uh.” The remote flies in the air with magic, but Luz manages to snatch it before Emira does permanent damage to the electronics. “I mean good ol’ Mittens here.”

“Love, would you pass me the chicken wings?” Viney wonders in a sultry voice, somehow winking at everyone _but_ her wife.

“I would _die_ for you,” Emira immediately blurts out, grabbing the plate from Edric and Jerbo and pushing it into the young doctor’s hands. 

“Whipped,” Edric whispers with a grin.

“Can we just watch the movie?” Jerbo reaches for the chicken wing ( _the not-wing_ ), and Viney, ever the thoughtful friend, hands him one. “It’s seven-thirty already.”

“Why do we have a specific time set for the movie? It’s a streaming service anyway.” Amity is more destabilised than she should be, but who can blame her, what with Luz having mentioned the sacred M-word — Marriage. 

“Because I have a night shift.” Jerbo replies, patting Edric’s head, while the Blight just purrs like a cat. Evidently, her brother is a fitting temporary replacement for Barcus, Amity muses, since the Oracle prodigy decided to move away from Bonesborough to pursue his dreams. _And comes back, like, once a year. And still Ed and Em managed to drag Viney and Jerbo away from their reunion._

“I have night shifts every week, don’t whine,” Viney counters, brushing Emira’s hair, as if in a competition with her friend, who, in turn, is quickening the motions through Edric’s already-disheveled hair.

“You’re a doctor, you signed up for this.” Jerbo accidentally pulls a hair, and Edric yelps. “Sorry, love. Thing is, I have to study this wonderful night flower—” 

“ _You_ are my wonderful night flower.” Edric raises his head to kiss Jerbo’s neck. “Why don’t you have a _night shift_ with me instead?”

“Because you suck at sex?”

“Haa, don’t listen to him,” Edric’s laugh is faker than his sense of style. “I am the best at sex.”

“There is literally not a single person in the room,” Emira throws a chicken wing at her brother, who, to Amity’s disgruntlement, catches it with his teeth, “who is interested in your sex life. Sorry, Jerbo, no offence.”

“It’s okay,” Jerbo shrugs. “I’m not that interested in our sex life either.”

“Hey!” Edric pokes Jerbo’s tummy, and Jerbo suddenly turns pink — which is a delight to pretty much everyone.

“I could stand to hear more,” Viney winks.

“Edric has a libido of a tree-frog,” Jerbo mumbles, visibly unsettled by Ed’s display of emotion.

“Ah.” Viney nods. “My condolences.”

“LET’S JUST WATCH THE MOVIE!” Edric shouts, glaring at the carpet crew, while the sofa girls just giggle.

Luz presses the button, and everyone falls silent while the movie unfolds. The plot is overly complicated, and soon Amity feels boredom washing over her. They’re only watching this film because Edric claims it’s from ‘the same great director who made Batman’. And because Emira will watch pretty much anything, since she’s just gonna kiss with Viney without paying much attention to the movie.

Amity also wants to make out with Luz, and looks at her girlfriend, when a thought strikes her. She doesn’t just want to make out with her now, she thinks as Luz seems to be invested in the overly-heavy plot. She wants to be able to make out with Luz without hearing the twins’ sarcasm or Eda’s cheering. She wants to wrap her arms around her human and not be interrupted as they nuzzle into each other in the living room. 

She wants to watch a show just with Luz — any day, any night, any time. She wants a fridge that has exclusively Amity foods and Luz foods, no Edric or Emira or Jerbo or Viney foods. She wants an apartment that is exclusively her and Luz.

And, just like that, Amity realises what she truly wants. 

“Luz, let’s move in together.”

And only then does she realise that the movie is paused and everyone’s staring.

Luz smiles, failing to notice everyone’s shock, ever the oblivious one. “Good idea, Ames! When?”

_______________

“The apartment is _just_ 400 square meters, are you sure you’re gonna be comfortable?” Emira is in her element, the fingers of her right hand intertwined with Viney’s, while she’s gesturing around with her left hand.

“I don’t understand meters,” Luz interferes happily. “Where I’m from, we use feet to measure length!”

“Wait, _feet_?” Edric gasps in awe and disbelief. “But everyone’s feet are of a different length…” The boy gasps again and turns to Jerbo. “I have an idea!”

Jerbo is not swayed in the slightest. “If you lie down and say ‘measure me in feet’, I will divorce you.”

“I don’t have any ideas.” The spark in Edric’s eyes dies within a second.

“Wait.” Amity looks down on her brother from the sofa. “Since when are you two married?” _No way…_

“We’re not. But we’ve been engaged for a month.” Jerbo clearly sounds confused. “I mean, didn’t Ed—” 

“You've been— what?” Emira shrieks, her hand detaching from her wife’s as she’s almost standing up. Almost.

“And you didn’t tell us?” Amity shrieks, looming over her brother from the other side. _The nerve! The audacity! I’m his sister, for Titan’s sake!_

“I-I…” Edric is visibly horrified by the sisters’ double approach. “I, uh, I didn’t think it was important?”

And, in an instant, just like that, the mood flips over. And Emira flips over to reach her brother across the carpet. Which, to think about it, is not _that_ big. Or the twins are just uncharacteristically tall.

“Of course it’s important! My baby brother is getting married!” Emira coos, pinching Edric’s cheek.

Edric hisses from Jerbo’s lap. “I am older than you!”

“Aww, the baby is adorable!” Amity plays along and pats Edric’s head from above.

“I’m also older than you!”

After half a minute of sisterly teasing, Amity decides it’s enough, and just feels the warm happiness that she already felt when Emira told her a while back about Viney proposing to her.

“Speaking of babies, are you and Viney gonna have kids now that you’re married?” Edric tries to gain the upper ground he was never meant to have in any conversation that involves both sisters at once.

“We’re taking it _slow_.” Viney sounds very chill while Emira is visibly hit by the Blight Curse of the Flustered Mess, something that Amity associates with all too well. “Something that you, according to Jerbo, have no concept of.” She winks and high-fives a reluctant but smug Jerbo.

“Hey, don’t mess with my bro,” Luz steps in. “He might be dumb and clueless—”

“Yeah!” Edric throws his fist in the air victoriously, then frowns. “Wait what?”

“—but I know for a fact Jerbo is just teasing, and deadpan is just his sort of humour.” Luz crosses her arms sternly.

“Guilty as charged.” Jerbo shrugs with a smile.

“Thank you, bro.” Edric wipes a tear off his face as he reaches for Luz with his arm, pushing Amity aside a bit.

“No worries, bro.” Luz reaches back to Edric over Amity’s shoulder.

“They are horrendous,” Amity whispers to her older sister, who confirms it with a nod. “I feel like I live with a child.”

“Tell me about it,” Jerbo replies with fake sorrow.

“Well, this ‘child’ here is the one who’s gonna keep the Blight dynasty alive!” Edric beats his chest proudly. “Once we’re married, Jerbo and I are gonna perform the birthing ritual.”

“Ew,” both sisters spit simultaneously.

“Ed, with your chronic immaturity,” Jerbo muses, “you don’t sound like a good daddy.”

“That’s not what you said last night~”

“I want a divorce,” Jerbo mutters, now redder than ever, making Amity think whether the Curse is contagious. 

Can Amity give it to Luz accidentally? Is it an STD? Should she get checked?

“I want to disown you,” Emira says.

“I second that motion,” Amity agrees.

“Aww, that means I can officially adopt Ed!” Luz cheers, clapping her hands together. “And we can all live together as a big happy family!”

“Well, since Luz and Amity decided to move in together, I vote that Luz shall replace Edric!” Emira chirps. 

“Aye!” Amity immediately votes.

“Hey, I live here!” Edric huffs. “It’s my right!”

“I don’t know about that. Viney lives here because she’s my _wife_ —”

“Which you never fail to mention,” Edric chips in.

“— and this is _my apartment_ ,” Emira finishes with a glare. 

“Well,” Edric huffs, his arms already crossed, the tie wrapped around him like a scarf, “Jerbo lives here because—”

“Because he’s a sweet boy, and you’re a parasite with no place of his own, Ed.” Emira smirks at her brother. “And with no fashion sense."

“I also have a house,” Jerbo mumbles timidly, but no one really pays attention.

“But it doesn’t have a jacuzzi!” Edric whines. The eldest Blight tugs at his V-neck comically. “Also, my fashion sense is _eclectic_.”

“I’d say it’s _lacking_ ,” Amity weighs in, her arm wrapped around her girlfriend — her wonderful girlfriend, who is so on board with moving in together, who takes an anxiety-inducing issue like moving in together and turns it into something simple, a day-to-day occurrence instead of a nerve-wrecking decision.

“Besides,” the brown-haired witch (who hasn’t dyed her hair in a while) adds, “I don’t think we’re gonna be moving in here.”

Edric gasps. “You’re gonna leave the family nest?!”

“Are you sure it’s rational?” Emira looks concerned, perhaps forgetting that, despite her place in the family, it is actually Amity who is the most rational of them three. 

Because Amity is the one with all the charts.

“Well, I know it’s working out for you guys because you have your personal space as couples, and you also have a common area on the first floor.” The brown-haired witch motions at her siblings’ partners. “And since Jerbo and Viney are best friends, it’s working out for everyone.”

“So are you moving to the Owl House?” Viney wonders, cross-legged on the carpet. _Just get another sofa. Gah!_

“Eh, I think it’s high time I had a place of my own.” Luz shrugs, kissing Amity’s temple. Even though Luz herself is a temple — a temple where Amity prays every day. “Besides, I’m more partial to apartments.”

“Yes,” Amity agrees (of course she agrees, it’s Luz), “I think we’re gonna rent one.”

“Why rent?” Emira seems offended by the very notion.

“Well, we don’t want to tie ourselves to a place yet,” Amity explains, “we’re just twenty.” She looks at Luz, who is nodding, as if reading her thoughts.

“I love you so much,” Luz says simply, and it’s everything.

“But you can still _buy_ an apartment — it’s a good investment!” Emira shifts in place relentlessly. “Besides, in this _horrible_ economy, renting a place is really complicated.”

“I think everyone will wanna rent to me,” Luz boasts, tapping her (wonderful) chest. “In case you forgot, I’m a bit of a national hero round here.”

“Yes,” the eldest Blight agrees from Jerbo’s lap, “but everyone will wanna ramp up the price because your partner just so happens to be the richest witch on the Boiling Isles.”

“Wait, what.” 

Amity must have misheard. She knows Em is rich. She knows Em is _very_ rich. Actually, she suspects that Em _is_ the richest person on the Boiling Isles. So she really doesn’t get Edric sometimes.

“According to _Blorb’s_ ,” Edric pulls out his scroll, which is an accomplishment in itself with how he doesn’t shift to leave Jerbo’s lap to perform that action, “Emira is the second richest person, and I’m the third. What a silly name, _Blorb’s_. Who is this Blorb person anyway?”

“How does that make me the richest?” Amity gets up from the sofa and starts pacing slightly, Luz watching her intently.

“Oh, because we both have officially named you the only heir to the Blight family fortune,” Emira mentions as a matter of fact, looking up at her sister from the carpet.

“What?” No, Amity does _not_ understand. “Not Jerbo? Not Viney?”

“I’m a professor,” Jerbo mutters, trying to push Edric off. “I make more than enough. Also my leg fell asleep, Ed, get off.”

“Oooooh, I would get _you_ off!”

“I’m a doctor,” Viney interrupts the buffoonery from the corner. “Despite the _horrible_ economy, my salary’s pretty high.” Amity can swear the girl grins at Emira when she mentions the economy.

“How did you two wonderful educated people manage to fall for my siblings…” Amity whispers to herself, finding her place next to Luz again.

Then she gets up and starts pacing once more. It seems ridiculous.

“So, uh… How much does the public think I am worth… exactly?” It feels so weird to say this out loud. 

_A tiny Amity surfaces in her head, sitting in a faux leather armchair and smoking a golden pipe. Which is filled with a cigar. Which, in turn, is sprinkled with gold._

_Huh. My subconscious is really weird sometimes._

“Well, since I’m worth nine hundred billion snails, and Edric is worth five—”

Luz gasps. “Are you telling me I’m dating a _trillionaire_?!” Amity can see all the role-play scenarios cross Luz’s mind at once, and decides to compartmentalise for now.

_The tiny trillionaire Amity lights up the cigar, which, in turn, turns into a golden cone. With a sigh, the tiny Amity shrugs, looking at the golden fireplace. “Everything I touch just seems to turn into gold. The blight of being rich!”_

“No,” Emira chuckles, “as I said, Edric is worth _five._ So Amity is worth nine hundred and five billion.”

_The non-trillionaire Amity deflates. “Alas!” She stands up, throwing the golden pipe into the fireplace. “Poverty, oh poverty, ‘tis my plight for ever and ever!”_

_I really need to consider therapy,_ the real Amity thinks. _If only to figure out why the hell my imagination works this way._

“Hey, I’m still the third richest witch!” Edric shoots finger guns at everyone in the room. Which takes some time, and is only reciprocated by Luz, while everyone else just deadpans.

“Wait.” Amity blinks, nesting, once again, in her human’s embrace on the sofa. “Em, do you own, like, half of the Boiling Isles?”

“No, of course not, that’s ridiculous!” Emira laughs, waving off any such notions. “Only forty-five percent, more or less.”

By now, Amity knows how to do spit-takes on thin air. Crushing on Luz, and then _dating_ Luz, and then _sleeping with_ Luz, and then having to _witness_ Luz’s daily antics will do that to anyone. “Do you have a stake in _everything_?!”

“Well, not to boast, but Empress Lilith is renting her castle from me.”

Now Luz does a spit-take on air, which, Amity notes with a pang of jealousy and pride, comes even more naturally to the human.

Ed tries the same, twice, but fails miserably, while Jerbo just shakes his head in lack of amusement. _Perhaps it’s because Ed already knows about Em’s fortune. Would make sense._

Instead, the Blight boy settles on a witty line. “So, in addition to inheriting our good looks and wits, you’re also gonna inherit our fortune.”

Amity does not even look at him, cradled by Luz. Who cares if she’s worth a trillion or a bazillion or a gajillion? What matters is that Luz is here, with her. Even if she didn’t have a snail to her heart, she would still take immense solace in the fact that the love of her life is there by her side.

Though, being rich does have its benefits, especially when it comes down to creating domestic bliss and comfort with the aforementioned love of her life.

“Well, Ames, I think you’re worth much more than a trillion,” Luz says suddenly, the movie forgotten as the streaming service turns off after half an hour of ‘Are you still watching?’

“Huh?” the brown-haired ( _I really need to dye my hair soon_ ) witch meets the brown of her human’s eyes.

“You’re worth everything in this realm and the human realm.” Luz is smiling, and Amity would give her trillion away for this smile. “You’re more precious than all money, all books, all apartments, all human history and witch history. You’re the epitome of everything that’s ever been perfect, _hermosa._ ”

The sound of heavy wailing disrupts the peace of the room.

Jerbo sighs. “Honestly, Ed…”

_______________

The landlady is an old witch, very old, even ancient, and Amity wonders as she follows her into the apartment, if that is the archetype that the humans followed until the inter-realm travel became prominent a few years ago.

That notion is completely obliterated as the young witch takes in the _decor_ of the flat: the tiles are covered by thin green carpets which are geometrically perfect, and all the little trinkets on the walls are a sure sign of a cosy, lived-in home, not a soulless box of concrete.

“So as you can see the balcony overlooks the market, which is what the noise cancellation in your bedroom is for,” the lady explains as the two girls follow her throughout the very spacious flat.

“But nothing beats the location here when you want to grab a quick bite of something delicious.”

Luz nods, and Amity just rolls her eyes. Her girlfriend is way too easy to appease with food. She hopes it won’t influence her decision-making.

“And let me show you the kitchen — it’s a separate room!”

“We’ll take it!” Luz exclaims happily.

“We’ll think about it!” Amity has to do damage control way too often with Luz.

Pushing her elbow into her partner, she hisses, “Larissa, stop getting on my nerves.”

“Oh, how nice!” the old lady exclaims. “We’re almost namesakes, my middle name is Clarissa!”

Luz shuts her mouth, glaring daggers at Amity, who’s bursting with smugness. What can Luz say? ‘Sorry, that’s not even my name, my girlfriend likes this stupid game where she guesses my middle name and gets it wrong?’

“Lead the way, _tocayo,_ ” Amity teases, gesturing ahead gallantly.

“ _Tocaya._ It’s conjugated,” Luz grumbles, walking into the kitchen.

“Cocina,” Amity says wisely, entering the separate kitchen and taking in the view. “Por cocinar.”

Luz’s eyes are laughing, even if the human herself is nodding seriously. “Para cocinar,” she whispers, battling a chuckle. “But very good observation skills, Ames.”

 _Not so good Spanish skills, apparently,_ Amity thinks. _Or, well, English skills either._

“Since the dining table is in the living room, a small cosy space is just what you two gals need~” The landlady shifts her feet as she points at all the kitchen utensils. “And look at all the human inventions here! Not sure if you know what they are but—” 

Luz smirks. Amity gets her: it’s not often that the human doesn’t get recognised, either for her great achievements, or, well, just for being the first human to set foot in the realm.

“So?” the landlady asks as soon as the three of them are back in the living room. “What do you think?”

“We’ll—” Luz begins but stops under Amity’s stern gaze. “Um, Ames, what do you think?” 

Amity looks over the perspective from the living room. It is big, and laid out in a square, which is good. The wooden door seems flimsy, but the neighbourhood is safe, and, well, between Luz and her, they don’t need to fear anyone.

Then her eyes focus on the locked door next to the bedroom. “Why is this room locked?”

“Oh!” The old witch (Clarissa?) points at the door. “This is the room where I live with my wives.”

“Oh!” Amity does not really not know how to respond, her composure all but gone. “I didn’t know you and your wife were planning to remain—” _Emira did not prepare me for this!_

“My _wives_ , dear. All three of them. And we get _very_ rowdy at night, so please invest in some ear plugs.”

Amity prides herself on being athletic and taking first prizes in sprints and marathons alike, but she can swear that she has never run so fast in her entire life, Luz following in her steps. 

_______________

“Well, that was a nightmare,” Amity remarks, slurping on a grapeberry smoothie. Since they are in the neighbourhood, the girls decided to take a well-deserved break.

“Yes,” Luz nods, munching on her apple blood brownie. The taste is her favourite, Amity knows. “Old people should be prohibited from having sex.”

“I was mostly talking about the landlady living in the same place as the tenants, but I get where you’re coming from.” Another slurp.

“Call me an ageist,” Luz laments, finishing off the brownie, “but can you imagine four old ladies going at it?”

“No, and thank you for the mental image.”

“Come on, Ames. Before they start bombarding me for autographs.”

Luz gets up while the people in the cafe start whispering ‘isn’t she THAT human?’ and ‘the hero!’ and whatever else people usually say when Luz and Amity are out in public. “Don’t worry. That was the worst situation ever, the next ones are gonna be better.”

_______________

Luz has never been so wrong in her entire life. Even when she told Amity with confidence that pineapples grow on pine trees.

By the time they are done with three other apartments, two sleepless nights inbetween viewings later, the once-again-green-haired witch is sure that living with the frisky old lady and her three wives wasn’t the worst-case scenario. 

In a way, it might have been the best out of all four.

One apartment had water stains on the wall, which the landlord tried to sell as ‘contemporary human water art’. And when Luz questioned him, called her a ‘fake human’, so Amity had to hit him in the face, and only Luz’s renown and Amity’s name managed to save them from the Empress’s coven.

_Sometimes corruption is not that bad of a thing._

Another apartment boasted a ‘centric location’ but failed to mention that it was in the centre of the Bonesborough Waste Management Facility. Naturally, Luz and Amity did not have the guts (both figuratively and literally — it _reeked_ ) to get inside.

The last one seems perfect at the first glance, and yet it is the worst. Because, in addition to being in the perfect location, having the perfect rent, and consisting of 175 meters ( _almost 575 feet!_ Luz exclaimed) — it has brought out their differences.

Amity loves wooden floors, but Luz loves tiles. The bedroom has wooden floors (yay for Amity, nay for Luz), while the rest of the apartment is tiled (nay for Amity, yay for Luz). 

Amity loves plants and the wonderful and cosy atmosphere they create. Luz does not like watering plants. Luz loves paintings on walls, while Amity finds them creepy and reminiscent of the dreadful Blight manor. Amity likes walk-in closets, while Luz considers everything that is a room _not_ a closet, by default.

And this weird, ridiculous apartment somehow has every pet peeve either of them has, is the embodiment of something that one of them — or the other one — dislikes.

Taking a break, the two girls are sitting in the bedroom, on the wooden floor ( _yay…_ ), moping. The wonderful Emperor-sized bed is the centrepiece of the room, with no wardrobe in sight — everything is plain and open, with the windows letting all the light in. Something that Amity _loves_ , but Luz — a late sleeper — absolutely despises.

“I just want this to be perfect, love,” Amity says apologetically, tapping her fingers against the hardwood. _It has a nice ring to it, you gotta admit._

“I know, Ames, but what if we never find a perfect apartment?” Luz puts her hand on Amity’s knee to show her she’s not mad. 

“I know, I know… But our tastes are just clashing left and right!” Amity groans in exasperation, looking around. 

Thankfully, the landlord gave them some space, remaining in the (extremely spacious and beautifully furnished) living room, while the girls just plopped down in the bedroom, exhausted and more than sure they’ll never find an apartment to call their own.

“It’s like…” Luz wonders out loud, looking at the ceiling. “Like trying to mix two very good, but polarly opposite senses of fashion. We’ll need advice from someone who can make it work.”

Amity nods slowly. “Yes, someone who can take two valid but clashing styles and… makes it work. We’ll need someone with absolutely zero fashion sense — but who still nails it every time.”

She catches Luz’s eyes, which shine with an idea — probably the same idea that Amity has.

“Edric?”

“Edric.”

_______________

“I have no idea what you mean.”

Edric’s face on the scroll is seething with offence — and in very good quality, Amity notes. _The connection here is pretty good too, it would be a shame to give up on this apartment._

“Says he, wearing a tuxedo with slippers,” Luz mumbles, eyeing the twenty-three-year-old on the screen. “Come on, bro, you’re someone who can make work even the most glaring fashion mistakes.”

“They aren’t mistakes, bro,” Edric replies, bringing a wine glass to his lips. With a suspicious brown wine. _Cocoa,_ Amity realises. _Of course it’s cocoa._ “They are happy little accidents.”

Amity very much wants to say that Edric and Emira were happy little accidents — but doesn’t, since she and Luz need the advice. “So what would you suggest? We told you the basic clashes, how would we combine them to make it work? Like, how to make cacti into actual plants?” She casts a tiny glare at Luz.

The human crosses her arms. “Cacti _are_ plants, the best plants in fact.”

“If you call cacti plants one more time,” Amity warns, “I’m gonna bite you.”

“A win-win for me!” Luz cheers.

“You are both disgusting.” Edric shakes his head, stuffing himself with snacks.

“Look at yourself, Mister I’m-eating-nuts-out-of-a-caviar-bowl.”

“Hey, these are _cashews_!”

“How does that make any difference?” Amity groans, rolling her eyes. Then she raises her hand, palm to the screen. “You know what, don’t answer that. Can you help us or not?”

“Turns out I just need to point out the obvious.” Edric takes another sip from his disgusting glass of disgusting cocoa. “You’re both idiots.”

“Hey!”

“Because living together is a constant _compromise_ , you nitwits.” The Blight on the screen taps his temple, his voice way too smug for someone dressed the way he is. “You _will_ have to learn to find the middle ground. Don’t tell me you’ve never had arguments.”

“Well, yes, but—” Amity tries.

“And how are arguments solved?” Another sip, followed by cashews. _Nuts. They are just nuts. At this point I’m just enabling him._

“With make-up sex?” Luz suggests.

Amity coughs very loudly, her heart jumping to her throat, heat spreading across her limbs. She quickly glances at her partner. “Don’t mind me, residue curse coming through.”

“Oh, and compromise.” Luz nods. “Compromise too.”

“So think about what you both like in the apartment, and fix the things you dislike.” Edric puts down the glass for a second to levitate over some more nuts. “And decide on how to adapt your differences to both your tastes.”

“You are unusually wise, Ed.” _Also why can’t you take a normal bowl like a normal person instead of refilling the tiny caviar bowl like every fifty seconds._

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Edric’s grin is even more smug than usual.

“A tux with slippers is still too much of a fashion statement,” Amity remarks.

“There’s never such a thing as ‘too much’,” Edric says, sipping on cocoa from his wine glass. “Never.”

“So…” Luz looks at her girlfriend intently. “Compromise, huh?”

Edric picks up a mug. _Finally._ And takes out a pepper-coated marshmallow. _Oh no._ “Think about it this way, Mittens: Luz likes tiled floors, you like Luz, so think how to make tiled floors work. And vice versa. What do you both like about floors?”

“Carpets!” the two girls say simultaneously, then look at each other.

“Oh.” Amity understands now.

“Ooooh.” It seems that Luz understands too.

“There you go!” Edric grins, taking another sip of his fancy cocoa. “It’s all about compromise! Like I don’t use Jerbo’s toothbrush, and, in return, he doesn’t murder me and hide my body in ten plastic bags to bury it across the Boiling Isles~”

“That’s… weirdly specific,” Luz mutters.

“Why would you use someone’s toothbrush?” Amity asks, unperturbed by her brother’s possible demise. “That’s disgusting.”

Edric huffs, taking the mug again and putting a (disgusting) marshmallow into his mouth. “I use your bathroom sponge all the time.”

“You _what_?!” 

“Oh, I think Em is calling me, gotta go, bye!”

“You _WHAT_ , you son of a witch?!”

And, just like that, Edric hangs up.

Amity’s eye twitches. “He’s _so_ dead.” Then she makes a mental note to prepare ten plastic bags. Just in case Jerbo needs help.

_______________

“Okay, so we have a cactus on the balcony, and a plant in the living room.”

Amity nods, filling in her notes — which are bound to soon become a chart. _Eventually, all the greatest notes become charts. That’s the circle of life. And the highest honour a set of notes can achieve,_ “Yes, love, and I promise you will never have to water it.”

“Good.” Luz nods, looking down on the wooden floor. “And we put carpets on the floors here _and_ in the rest of the apartment.”

“Exactly.” Amity smiles, dragging her human closer with glee. “And it’s gonna keep us warm. On the walls, we’ll put some paintings—”

“—But only the ones you and I paint ourselves,” Luz finishes, planting a small kiss on her girlfriend’s cheek. “I know you find them creepy.”

“I don’t find anything _you_ draw creepy, I find it amazing.” Amity can’t believe that compromising would give her such a burst of endorphins. The poor landlord agreed to wait yet another hour while the two possible tenants sort it all out.

“Want me to draw a hickey on your neck?” Luz offers, shifting closer to the green-haired witch on the bed.

 _Oh yes._ “Mmm, maybe when we’re alone…”

“So we _are_ moving here?” Luz whispers into Amity’s neck as she pins her down on the bed. “This is one _gorgeous_ bed, by the way.”

 _Oh yes._ Once again, Amity’s brain ceases to function. She’s lucky that they’ve already established all the necessary compromises — and then can establish the rest as they go.

Because this is everything she needs, Amity realises. This is what she was missing before she met Luz, but has now gained. A place of her own — and the only person in the world to share it with. _Home._

“Yes, we’re moving here,” Amity agrees in a heartbeat. And her heart _is_ beating pretty fast with Luz on top of her. “If you want to, of course.”

“Oh, I _do_ ,” Luz purrs, and Amity feels like they need _two_ cooling spells in this bedroom. “I especially like this _fantastic_ bed.” 

Luz winks, and Amity’s mouth runs dry. The human leans in to the witch’s (trembling) ear. “The sex on it must be _insane_. Wanna try?”

Amity emits something between a primeval roar and a flustered yelp and shrugs Luz off with ease, grabbing her purse to fish out the down payment. In a second, she jumps off the bed and rushes to the living room, where the landlord is (hopefully) still waiting.

“We’ll take it!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> Honestly, I am amazed and pleasantly surprised for the overwhelmingly positive feedback I've gotten on this story. Thank you for taking your time to read my story, and thank you to every single person who has left a kudos. And additional thanks to everyone who leaves their comments. Not only does this help me consider the story's future, plot points, and my style, but it is also a great motivation to release chapters faster — and, hopefully, better. 
> 
> Even though I am far from popular or well-known, so I can't provide much publicity, I would like to give a shout-out to BitSweetChoc (bsc_draws on Instagram) for this amazing fanart for Chapter 2: 
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/p/CJN0jXMp8JA/?igshid=ailvzgeiws6o
> 
> Thank you so much! This is an honour beyond belief. 
> 
> Thank you again for reading, and, if you want to, please leave your comments with your opinions. I will make sure to reply to each one of them, and I will see you in the coming year! (Hopefully it's gonna be better than 2020, keeping my fingers crossed.)


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luz and Amity have been together for eight years, and Amity is finally ready to pop the question. The question of marriage, that is. Unfortunately, the old curse of being a flustered mess around Luz is hitting her again, after all these years. Amity is mortified, Luz is blissfully oblivious, and Lilith is having a moment.

“So I guess I realised I was gay when I was in school—”

“Um, Ed…”

“That professor just walked into the classroom, all flair and style, and I was just like ‘woah’, and—”

“Edric.”

“And my heart just did a leap, you know? And then I thought—”

“EDRIC!”

The Eldest Blight — in a bathrobe on top of a dressing shirt tucked into some cotton trousers — looks up from the sofa, where he is lounging with closed eyes.

He shifts over, beaming radiantly at his little sister, who is looking at him from the carpet, sitting there cross-legged with a notebook in her hands. “What? I thought you said you wanted to have a personal conversation!”

“Yes, but that’s NOT what I meant!” Amity gets up, trying to push her brother off the sofa. 

Yet, it seems that married life has made Edric more grounded — metaphorically and literally. He’s put on some weight, and, as Emira says, ‘no longer looks like a pole in the middle of an empty field’. But that also makes it harder to push him off the only sofa in the Blight residence. 

It still eludes Amity why the twins or their spouses can’t just buy another sofa. Or why both Jerbo and Viney would take the Blight name. Which actually reminds her of why she came here in the first place.

“Was the professor, by any chance, professor Apollo?” Jerbo interrupts her train of thought, scrolling on his phone.

“Yes!” Edric wiggles his brow at his husband, who seems pretty comfortable on a pillow in the corner. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“No.” Jerbo doesn’t even look up. “Because whatever you’re thinking is either obscene or ridiculous.”

“Why not both?” The green-haired man wiggles his eyebrow once again in his particular ( _particularly disgusting_ ) manner.

“Edric, that is NOT a compliment!”

Amity sighs as her brother and his husband get into yet another argument. _There’s no way I can talk with Ed when he’s arguing with Jerbo._ And yet it never seems like the Real Deal: all the fights are perfectly contained within banter, never evolve into actual quarrels, never offend or hurt. Kind of like their sibling fights, only with flirting. 

She wants that, Amity thinks as she ascends the steps, which are now covered with a moss-like carpet that tingles beneath her feet. The walls on the second floor are newly painted, and the witch feels a pang of pleasant longing in her heart. This is domestic, even more domestic than what she has with Luz. 

Which brings her to Emira’s door. Because she wants to have _that_ with Luz, that married domestic wonder of daily married life. _Did I think ‘married’ twice? I must be really preoccupied with this thing._

And it should be pretty simple, Amity thinks as she knocks. Just get down on one knee and pop the question. Simple as that. She is 100 percent sure Luz will say yes. She just wants to tell Edric and Emira beforehand. Maybe ask for a bit of advice, that’s all. Since the twins have already been through their respective proposals.

“Em, are you decent?”

“Well, me and Viney are _very_ naked.”

Amity covers her eyes automatically, then swiftly realises there is a door between her and the horrible, traumatising, possibly deadly sight that is her naked sister and her wife.

“Why would… You _knew_ I was coming by, why would you sex each other—”

“Oh, no, we’re not in the middle of anything like that!” Viney’s voice joins in from behind the door. “We’re just too lazy to get dressed.”

Amity groans. “You know what? It’s not urgent, I’ll be back soon. See you later.”

And, without waiting for a reply, she tiptoes away from the door. Emira is disgusting when she’s around Viney. And Edric is disgusting when he’s around Jerbo. And yet… 

In reality, Amity _wants_ that. Well, not looking at her siblings being disgusting, of course. No, she wants that domestic bliss, a moment of calm stretched into eternity. She wants a married life.

And, while she and Luz already have the dynamic of a married couple — hopefully, not as disgusting as Emira and Viney — Amity wants to make it official. Has wanted to, for a while. And so she will do it.

It’s simple, right? She’ll go get the ring she bought a while back, get down on one knee, and ask Luz. 

Internally rambling, Amity passes Jerbo and Edric engaged in what seems to be a makeout session. _Eww, why, why, why._ Suddenly she feels very happy that she and Luz live at their own place.

Right. Luz.

She will just go home now, ask Luz, hear the ‘yes’, and then go back to tell everyone the good news. Yes, it’s very simple, Amity repeats to herself once again as she puts on her boots to go out.

It’s very simple, because she’s Amity Blight — almost Amity _Noceda_ — and she has a solid plan.

_______________

Amity Blight _had_ a not-so-solid plan, and no, it’s _not_ simple, and at this rate she will never become Amity Noceda.

Trembling, Amity looks at her reflection in the mirror, clenching the box with the ring in her fist. _Either the box is very tiny or my hands are gigantic._

The witch focuses on Luz’s brushes lying around on the counter, then her eyes shift to the perfectly sealed toothpaste — Luz is always neat, contrary to what people think of her.

_Oh no. I tried to ground myself, and here we go again._

It feels like a panic attack — but it definitely isn’t one. She’s not hyperventilating, she can perfectly focus on objects around her without tunnel vision — and most importantly, she doesn’t feel bad or stressed.

She just feels hot. Way too hot. Hot and sweaty and shaky and her face is red— 

_Oh no._

Amity gets it now.

_Titan damn it! Now? Now, of all time?!_

The Curse is back. 

She wants to cry at the predicament and laugh at the ridiculous timing. Why, oh why would she have the Curse of the Flustered Mess around her almost-fiancee, her girlfriend of _eight years_ , the one person she is the most comfortable around.

 _Her middle name._ Amity remembers the old cure. _I’ll just have to keep guessing it._

With a few deep breaths, Amity flushes the toilet (the idea of lying to Luz makes her want to throw up for real though) and exits the bathroom, walking back into the bedroom, where Luz is waiting for her with a concerned expression.

“Are you okay, love?” The human reaches for her witch, who is now sitting next to her on the edge of the bed, and wraps her arms around her. “Do you need a Pepto?”

“No, I’m okay,” Amity lies with a fake chuckle which Luz will definitely see through and— 

“Ah, okay!” And, just like that, Luz is kissing her neck again.

_Wow. I underestimated her density. Severely._

Then again, it would make sense for someone who couldn’t see the most obvious clues for a whole year, Amity muses. 

“So, Luz Rosada Noceda—”

“Aww, I missed this little game of ours!” Luz is kissing, and kissing, and kissing, and Amity thinks that her human is the most oblivious person in the world. “I thought the next time you’d try to guess my middle name would be to propose~” 

No, Amity can’t. She can’t, and she is ready to admit she is weak. Because the world is spinning, and the giant TV screen is spinning, and the fan is spinning — well, okay, the fan is supposed to be spinning — but neither the fan nor the cooling spell provide any comfort because Amity is hot, Amity cannot speak, and Amity sure as hell cannot propose.

“Oh, but that gives me an advantage,” Luz teases without realising the implications that her words have for her girlfriend. “Sorry, love, are you okay? We don’t have to ever get married, I was just—”

“Meep!” Oh, okay, apparently Amity can speak. Just not like a normal person. Or coherently. Or with… words. 

“Oh, look, the new episode is on!”

And, just like that, Luz is clicking, turning towards the TV, taking Amity’s ‘meep’ as ‘I’m okay’. Because that’s probably what Amity wanted to say, what she would have said anyway.

Because Luz understands her without words. Because they are more in sync that any soulmates in the history of soulmates. Because Luz is perfect, and she _needs_ to marry her — but she just _can’t_.

_______________

Okay, Amity is calm, and she is once again at the Twins’, where the effects of the Curse cannot surface, at least in Luz’s absence. She just needs to talk to her siblings — and finally get the help that she so desperately needs.

It’s a good thing the two homes are so close to each other, and that Luz binge-watches every show they have on every human _and_ witch streaming network.

 _Sometimes being a writer and having passive income as well sounds like a dream,_ Amity muses, taking off her boots. But of course she knows it’s hard work, because she’s seen Luz rework and edit and rework and edit and rework and then get another memo from the publisher and edit again… Very often all the way through the morning. 

Walking through the familiar corridor, she hears loud wailing. _What did Edric see this time? A picture of a baby seal eating a carrot?_

As she enters the living room, Amity knows at once that it’s not Edric being emotional. It’s Edric being _devastated._ Nestled on the sofa, the eldest Blight is crying into Emira’s shoulder, and lifts his face only for a second to greet Amity — but doesn’t, a series of sobs escaping his throat instead.

Edric’s face is red from crying, his lips are puffy, and the last time he looked this miserable was years ago, when their parents were still around.

“Who hurt you, Ed?” 

Amity is enraged. She might have gotten a bit stern with Edric in the recent years, what with her growing up, and Ed… not growing up — but she will never let _anyone_ offend her brother. Except for Emira, Viney, Jerbo, and Luz — but that goes without saying, because their banter would be playful and loving.

This, here, is clearly not the case. 

“There…” Edric sniffs, Emira resuming her circular motions on his back. “There w-was a h-human tourist who saw me in my beautiful snot-green crop-top and—”

The young man starts wailing again, and Amity feels her blood boiling. She might not be the strongest physically, but she can _hire_ people — and, in addition, no one ever needed extra strength to break someone’s face in with a spell. Or a crowbar. _Whatever works._

“H-he said I looked disgusting and _spat_ on me and c-called me a d-dirty fa—”

“Don’t even bother repeating what that moron said,” Viney approaches with a glass of water. “Here, take this. It’s herbal, but it’ll calm your nerves.”

“Thank you.” Edric sniffs, and then he’s crying again.

Amity clenches and unclenches her fists. She has a huge impulse to call Luz, but knows that it will probably lead to her girlfriend getting charged with murder. And she’s not sure Lilith will want that strain on the bilateral human-witch relations.

Instead, she approaches Emira from the other side. “Do we have any idea who it was?” the youngest Blight whispers, and Emira just shakes her head.

“I gave his details, everything Ed could tell me, to the Coven. They are assembling a task force as we speak.”

“Good.” Amity spits through gritted teeth, still seething. “Good.”

“Don’t worry, Mittens, I’m the biggest donor to the Empress’s Coven.” Emira, it seems, finds it hard to remain calm too, but manages to keep her composure, still patting and rubbing her brother’s back. 

She does, however, let out an evil, cold, murderous grin. “I did ask them _not_ to be gentle.”

“Where’s Jerbo?” Amity wonders, making a mental note to go to Emira first in case of any problems. “The poor boy must be devastated.”

“No, he’s actually pretty calm.” Viney is holding Edric’s head as he’s drinking the medicine.

_Huh, that’s strange. Then again, Jerbo is usually the calmest of us all._

“He left a while ago.” Edric sniffs and lifts his head long enough to try to give Amity a reassuring look — and fails miserably, naturally. _Ever the supportive big brother._ “He said he just needs to take a tiny walk and he’ll be back with me soon.”

Amity nods. _Poor Jerbo. The walk must be to process all of this._

“He did take a saw and ten plastic bags with him.”

_Or not._

_______________

“The Empress will be with you in a moment, Miss Blight.”

Okay, this is ridiculous, yes. Amity can see that. But, with her siblings occupied with something way more important, she doesn’t really have that many options. 

She can’t go to Camila for advice because she is Luz’s Mom. She can’t go to Eda because… well, the same reason, really. She _definitely_ will not go to Willow or Gus because those two traitors will tell Luz in a heartbeat.

So, if she ever wants to be called Miss Noceda, Amity has to turn to the only person who can truly help her now.

“Hello, Amity.”

“Hello, Lilith.” The young witch bows her head and holds it for a few seconds, as required by etiquette. Then she throws her arms around the Empress’s back, wrapping Lilith in a hug.

Much to the dismay of the secretary, a young but clearly opinionated witch, who huffs, looking personally offended that someone would dare behave that way around the Empress.

“Come in, Amity,” Lilith motions through the door. Since the last time they saw each other — which, to think about it, was over a year ago — her old mentor has been through some changes. 

One, Lilith now wears her hair short, which is attractive, to say the very least. Also it’s a great match for the oval of her face and brings out the best in her ears.

Two, she now has yet another secretary, who, Amity can vouch for that, will be gone very soon. Out of the corner of her eye the young witch can see a scroll on the desk with Penstagram open — and Lilith is adamant about work environments being work-only.

And three, Amity gawks as she walks through the door, Lilith conducts her work from a big yet simple office, with unadorned walls and a big wooden desk in the corner, the only other objects inside being a leather couch and a human invention — a weird cloth sack that entraps you when you sit on it. 

Luz says the feeling of sinking into it is the best. Amity respectfully disagrees and feels scared of the damn thing — the possibility of being swallowed by a sack is too horrifying. 

“What a nice… office?” Wrapped up in her thoughts, still fuming _and_ confused, Amity didn’t really notice that she was led into a completely different part of the castle, away from the usual place. “What happened to the throne room?”

“Oh, you know.” Lilith fakes the most fake laugh in the history of fake laughs. “I decided to be closer to the people. All that grandeur and luxury doesn’t mix well with executing daily government business.”

Amity is not buying it. She’s not buying it for a second. “Yeah, doesn’t seem like it.”

 _Great, I just snapped at the Empress._ Usually Amity would never allow herself to be this shallow, but right now she’s far from stable, teeth gritting from irritation at whoever offended her brother — and her stomach doing flips at the idea of proposing to Luz.

Maybe it’s just not the best day. 

There are so many symbolic dates. The first day they met. _Okay, no, I almost got her dissected._ The day they danced at Grom. _Uh, that’s a way ahead._ The day Amity drew a chart— _Um, way too personal to tell other people._

Lilith just takes a long, scrutinising look at her disciple and nods in complete, total understanding, seemingly not bothered at all by the younger witch’s attitude. “As I see, you are about to propose to Luz.”

Amity was irritated — now she’s stupefied. 

“H-how did you know?”

_Can she read my mind? Oh my Titan, that means she can hear everything I think! Quick, think something not-naughty! Uh, abominations! Teaching! Charts! Like that time when Luz and I— No, ABORT, ABORT, GO BACK!_

Indeed, the green-haired witch takes a few steps back — while a million tiny Amities run around in her head, flailing their arms — and, well, backs into the wall. _Not exactly the throne room, is it._

Lilith smiles an unusual smile that she would usually only reserve for Amity. And Amity does take pride in it, obviously, because Lilith has been her mentor, and she was strong enough to admit her wrongdoing against Eda and the Empire, and took it upon herself to fix her mistakes — and not at all because Amity sees in her a mother figure which she never really had.

“Firstly, you gave me an attitude, something you haven’t done in years.”

Fair enough, Amity concedes, but can’t help feeling slightly defensive — all those years ago, Lilith _did_ do something very worthy of getting an attitude. Perhaps even a punch in the face.

_“Say no more! Not a word!”_

_A tiny Amity in a green wig appears in her head, walking around what seems to be a courtroom filled with identical tiny Amities in assorted clothing. “Your Honour, the defence would like to file a motion pertaining to the removal from the court records of any possible mentioning of ostensible attempted assault against the royal person.”_

_Another tiny Amity stands up in the other side of the courtroom, her wig no less green, but also purple. “Your Honour, the prosecution would like to strike that motion because the prosecution has no idea what the defence just said.”_

_The first tiny Amity jumps up, glaring at the second Amity. “Your Honour, the defence would like to punch the prosecution in the face for good measure!”_

_The tiny Amity sitting on the presiding judge’s chair — her wig green, purple AND golden — smacks her fist against the desk. “The Court would like to remind you two dimwits that we’re the same conscience, and that the Empress in question might be reading our mind!”_

_The two Amities blink, looking at each other, then run away, shouting, followed by the Jury, the attendees, and the Judge herself._

“Secondly, you seem to be anxious, which doesn’t bode well with irritation — usually the two just cancel each other.”

 _She’s good,_ Amity thinks, _she’s real good._ But then again, she knows it already.

“And last but not least—” Lilith’s smile is back on her face as she approaches the backed-into-the-wall-Amity and places her hand on the witch’s shoulder. “You’re clutching a ring box in your hand.”

_Titan damn it._

Only now does Amity realise she’s been holding the ring box all this time. She was absolutely certain she’d put it away at some point, at least stoved it into her pocket. But no, she’s actually _holding_ the damn thing, and it can only take someone as dense as Luz — or someone as occupied as the Blight team — not to notice.

“Your secretary didn’t notice,” Amity mumbles, Lilith’s hand still on her shoulder. 

“I am ninety percent sure I’m gonna fire her.”

Amity chuckles, and Lilith steps away, turning her back to her ex-apprentice for a moment. “I know I have failed you as a mentor. On numerous occasions.”

Amity knows, but she also knows better than to back-talk the Empress again — who can (perhaps?) read minds, and is, coincidentally, the strongest, baddest witch in the Isles. Except maybe her sister Eda.

“But I will not fail you this time.” Lilith draws a circle in the air, and a small vial with a transparent liquid appears in her other hand. She turns to the young witch and hands her the vial. “Drink this.”

_Poison? Is this poison? Should it even be poison?_

“It’s a courage potion.”

_Ooooooooooh._

Amity grabs the vial and eyes it with suspicion. “Is it like one of those shampoo things that say ‘no tears’ but then you cry in the shower anyway?”

Lilith blinks. “Amity, if you need to talk to someone—”

“I’m fine,” Amity lies, “I have charts— I mean, Luz. I have Luz. They help me a lot.”

“They?”

“Oh yes, ‘they’, as in, Luz and her charts. I mean, her charms,” Amity lies again, eyeing the vial. “So what does this potion do?”

“Well,” Lilith drawls, giving Amity a weird side look, “as the name suggests, it gives you courage. For example, just enough courage to help you propose to the love of your life.”

The anger within is dying down, replaced by a gentle nervous tingling in her limbs as Amity down the potion immediately upon Lilith’s mention of Luz. _For her, I would drink burning acid._

Amity waits a few seconds, but doesn’t really feel any different. “Is it working?” she wonders out loud cautiously. 

“It might take up to a few minutes to kick in, depending on how low your courage level currently is,” Lilith explains, and Amity realises her courage level is floating somewhere between running off a cliff and realising that your degree is no longer valid so you have to go to Hexside again. 

The young witch shivers. _Sounds dreadful._ “It… might take closer to an hour, in my case,” she admits sheepishly, still wrapping Lilith in a hug — which the Empress reciprocates, less tense than initially. “Thanks, Mom.”

_Oops._

Amity’s mind draws a blank, and there aren’t even any tiny Amities in there to throw a tantrum. On a positive note, she doesn’t feel horrified — which is probably the potion already working. Neither does she feel any irritation, because embarrassment is washing it away pretty fast.

Of course they don’t have this kind of relationship, it’s stupid to assume. But ever since Lilith joined the Bad Girl Crew nine years ago, Amity grew closer to her, hanging out at the Owl House. Granted, ever since Lilith became the Empress, they haven’t seen each other that much, maybe a few times a year.

But still. It’s been a weird mentorship, with the mentor usually occupied by other problems — but always there to help. 

Amity grunts mentally. _I’m really messed up, I have tiny versions of myself in my subconscious, I can’t propose to my soulmate because I’m cursed. Calling Lilith ‘Mom’ is the least of my problems._

Lilith clears her throat, and Amity realises she’s still hugging the older witch. “Oh, uh, yes.” Breaking the hug, the green-haired witch frantically looks around to shift the conversation away from her misspeak. “So why did you really move into this office?”

Lilith sighs. “Emira decided it would be better to leave the throne room open to tourists. More revenue and everything, hedge our risks.”

 _Of course she did._ Amity mirrors the Empress’s sigh. “I’ll… talk to her, Lilith.”

The Empress merely nods, and Amity feels that no irritation, fear, or anxiety can win over this sheer embarrassment and awkwardness. So, she starts backing down towards the door. “I, um, I’ll see you, Lilith? Important proposing business and everything, I have. I mean, I have the business.”

_Now I’m just talking like that weird space frog that Luz likes so much._

As she already closes the door behind her, Amity hears a whisper:

“I wish she would call me ‘Mom’ more often.”

_______________

Waiting for the potion to fully kick in, Amity decides to call Emira. She is still worried sick about Edric — hopefully, her brother is feeling better. But, just in case Ed is still feeling unwell, she calls Em instead. 

Her sister appears on the screen, and Amity releases a breath she hasn’t realised she’s been holding. Em’s face is radiant, and so she knows at once that Edric is okay.

“I assume justice has been served?” the little sister asks, the corners of her lips forming a tiny smile.

“Oh yes.” Emira nods with a grin. “The human idiot was breaking some stalls at the Market when the Coven got him. He was shouting something about Salem and burning? I don’t care.”

“Good!” Amity cheers, throwing her fist in the air. “Is Edric better?”

“Yes,” Emira rolls her eyes with a smile as she stretches on the sofa ( _still the only sofa in the house_ ). “Jerbo was nearby so the Coven let him have the first punch — so now Ed is gushing about how his husband is his noble defender.”

“Aaah,” Amity closes her eyes in delight. “Nothing compares to some police brutality against someone who hurt my family.”

“So, Mittens, is everything okay?” Concern returns to Emira’s voice. “I know we’ve been neglecting you the whole day—”

“It’s okay.” Amity doesn’t want to worry the twins any more. “I just had a question, but now I think I’m good. So where’s Ed?”

“Probably upstairs, making out with Jerbo.”

“Why would you give me that mental image?” Amity groans, everything back on track, as it seems. “Couldn’t you have lied instead?”

“I _did_ lie! If I wanted to tell the truth, I’d say that Edric and Jerbo are probably having—”

“Thank! You!” 

“So,” Emira teases, “who was right when she said the apartment needed _extra_ sound isolation?” 

“What your apartment needs is an _extra_ sofa,” the young witch counters. 

Then, she does feel her fingers tingling slightly — which might be the potion kicking in. _I need to test it first._

“How does it feel, being married to Viney?” Amity wonders, biting her lip slightly. If she can stand Em’s descriptive language, surely she can propose to Luz. Moreover, she does want to hear it from her sister. Because Edric would probably either say something too sappy or overly suggestive.

“You mean being married to the most intelligent, sophisticated, gorgeous witch in the Boiling Isles?” _Okay, Edric is not the sappiest, it seems._

Amity is pretty sure Emira has just described Luz, but nods, because she needs the answer.

“It’s bliss. Pure, unadulterated bliss.”

Emira closes her eyes in what seems to be, indeed, pure unadulterated bliss. “It’s domestic, it’s wonderful, it’s daily happiness. I wake up every morning knowing that Viney and I are officially together for eternity. It’s the purest sense of belonging to your spouse, and it’s the most beautiful sensation I know.”

Amity gulps. Her heart starts racing out of nowhere, and her head is spinning slightly already. _Oh no. Oh no, I thought the Curse was gone for good! Maybe the potion hasn’t kicked in yet!_

“Also the sex is _so much better_ after marriage!” _Eww! Ew! Ew!!_ “Every time I close my eyes, I just see my beautiful wife, and every time I listen to silence, I hear her gorgeous, deep, resonating voice…”

A maybe-gorgeous, definitely-deep, resonating voice resonates from upstairs. “EMIRA! If you use my toothbrush _one more time_ , I swear to Titan I will divorce you!”

“Ah…” The older Blight doesn’t even open her eyes, a smile on her face. “I’m hearing it even now.”

_______________

“Amity, can we talk?”

Immediately upon entering the apartment, Amity knows the potion is _not_ working. Not just that — her courage is gone altogether. Seeing Luz so serious, so sombre, is debilitating. Amity’s ears, drooping and trembling, are hurting from the thick silence, her pulse skyrockets, and she is more than sure she screwed up so much that Luz has finally decided to get rid of her.

 _Serves me right,_ Amity thinks bitterly as she takes off her boots and walks into the tiled — and carpeted — living room, where her girlfriend is waiting, serious, nervous, in a… suit?

 _She wore a suit just to dump me,_ the young witch realises, tears welling in her eyes. She knows Luz’s wishes are more important to her than anything, she knows she has to let Luz go because she loves her _so much_ , but she would do anything, _anything_ to stay.

Why? Why is she dumping her right now? Why is she wearing a suit? Did Amity do something? Did she forget to do something? Did she do something wrong?

Why is Luz so serious? Why is she tugging on her tie? Why is she saying she loves her? If Luz loves her, then why is she dumping her? Why is she smiling now?

Why is Luz getting down on one knee?

“Amity, you are the most wonderful person in the universe. Both realms should fight just to have you — and I already won because I’m the one who has you.”

What is she talking about? And why is she taking out a box that—

“Having you by my side is the only thing that will ever matter to me, Ames. So, with an open heart, I’m asking you.”

There’s a ring. Why is there a ring? Where did Luz get a ring? 

“Amity Blight, will you make me the happiest woman in the world and marry me?”

_WHAT._

Amity gasps. Then she shrieks. Then she yelps and throws herself at Luz, pushing her to the ground. “I can’t believe you’ve done that!!!”

“Wha—” Luz’s expression is priceless: she is at the same time confused and low-key panicking. Which is adorable and endearing and altogether precious. “So… Is this a yes or a no?”

“I’ve been trying to propose to you _all day_!” Now that the dam is broken, Amity’s cheeks are damp with tears, and while those flow loose, her lips are tight on Luz’s neck after each phrase. “I was so scared — and I thought the curse was back — and then I took a courage potion — and then I thought you were gonna _dump me_!”

“Why would I…” Luz finally responds to her girlfriend’s kiss, wrapping her arms around the girl on top of her. “Why would I ever break up with you? I want to _marry_ you, _pendeja_!”

“No, _you_ are the stupid one!” Amit sniffs, burying her face deep into Luz’s armpit, not bothering to check if she is staining the human’s suit — the only suit she owns, it seems. _Where did she get a suit anyway?_ It wasn’t in the wardrobe or the closet.

“So…”

“Of course it’s a yes, Luz!” Amity cannot believe her dumb her girlfriend is. “Of course I’ll marry you, it goes without saying!”

“Well, actually, it does _not_ go without saying,” Luz chuckles, still pinned by her athletic girlfriend. “You have to say yes to make it official.”

The two women just lie there on the carpet for a while, until Luz starts shifting her leg slightly. Amity knows it means her leg is asleep, but doesn’t want to get up, so she just rolls off her girlfriend — her _fiancée_ — and starts tracing circles on Luz’s collarbone.

“I can’t believe we’re gonna get married,” Amity says finally. Happiness knocking at the gates, but the witch does not want to allow it, too wary of repercussions. “It sounds too good to be true.”

Aaaand Luz is kissing her fingers. “Mmm, _you_ sound too good to be true.”

Amity giggles. “That doesn’t even make any sense.” 

“Does it?” Luz keeps up. “Does it?”

Amity keeps giggling and pretending to take her fingers away, but then stops the game and just surrenders her whole arm to her gi— fiancée. It’s such a wonderful, unrealistically happy thought — Luz and her, soon to be married.

_Soon. Married. I need to tell Em and Ed!_

She steals her arm back, much to Luz’s disgruntlement, and jumps up on the carpet. 

Luz is looking at her from below, propped up on one elbow. “You’re _so hot_ when you’re doing these athletic things, Ames.”

Even though Amity does have a tiny blush — she feels a slight heat on her cheeks — she knows it’s no longer the Curse at work, but just her g— financée’s charms. “You’re super hot too, _hermosa_ , but I gotta tell the twins I’m gonna marry the love of my life!”

“Ooooh,” Luz grins, “did she also propose to you and you chose her over me?”

“Shush, you.” Amity throws a nearby napkin at Luz, which — as expected — lands immediately next to her feet. _I’m not the smartest cookie in the jar._ “You just want to hear _you_ are the love of my life.”

“Yes,” Luz admits.

“Well, you _are_.” Amity puts on her boots, looking at her fiancée getting up from the floor. “We literally just decided to get married.”

“Yes.” Luz nods, tugging at her suit. “I should probably give this back to Eda.” _No wonder._ “Also I should drop by my Mom’s and tell her I’m getting married.”

“It’s always better in person, so I’m going to the Twins’ house too.” Amity smiles. “Meet you home at nine?”

Luz nods, giving her almost-wife an embrace. “Meet you home at nine.”

_______________

There is nothing special about this tea-time.

The big table, as usual, is filled with snacks and sweet human treats, some sugar in the corner where Edric and Jerbo are sitting, some honey in Emira and Viney’s corner. 

And Amity is sitting there alone, but she is not, really. She is sitting there with Luz, because, while Luz is most likely gushing to Eda — or Camila already — she is in Amity’s heart. And will forever remain there. While it doesn’t take marriage to reinforce that, it is still the ultimate bond for her and Luz. And now that they have decided to have that bond, Amity is the happiest she’s ever been.

So, maybe there is something special about this tea-time. Because it’s the first time she’s here as Luz’s fiancée. 

“Try the new special flavour of these Kit-kats!” Emira urges, pushing the box towards her little sister. “They have these ‘kanjis’, and are — apparently — from some faraway place in the human realm.”

“Very rare.” Edric nods, his arm wrapped around his husband.

“Edric ate half already,” Jerbo explains, sipping on his tea from a mug that says _#1 husband_. 

“Half the box in one sitting?” Amity chuckles. _Sounds like Edric._

“More like half the shipment,” Emira laughs and reaches across the table to pat her brother’s… elbow? Yes, they might be tall, but the table is pretty big, after all. “But he deserves that, after today’s turmoil.”

“Yes.” Edric’s soft smile is a rare sight to see, and Amity takes it in. “Thank you all for being so nice. And of course Jerbo for avenging me.”

“It’s nothing, you’re the love of my life.” Jerbo blushes as he says it, and Amity can’t help but feel even more giddy.

“The benefits of being rich!” Viney exclaims, taking another of those weird Kit-kats. “Mmm, potato flavour.”

Amity snorts, and refuses one of those with a shake of her head.

“Don’t worry, Mittens, one day you’ll become rich and famous like us.” Edric reaches across the table, but can’t really touch Amity, so gives her a thumbs-up instead.

“You’re not rich, Ed.” Emira seems to be back in her element. “I still give you your allowance.”

“Yeah, so?” Edric merely shrugs, back to his cheerful, not-a-damn-given self.

“You’re twenty-five.”

“Well, we did agree that you would run the estate.” Edric drinks his cold tea slowly from a wine glass.

“True,” Emira tries, “but I also make my own money with the firm.”

“And I,” Edric counters, “make hundreds of children happy at the circus.”

Ever since Edric set up a circus, that’s all he’s been doing. And yet, Amity knows that being a circle performer makes him truly happy — even if Emira would prefer that all of the Blights have more profitable occupations. But, since she is not pushy about it — and definitely not demanding, like their Mother was — the eldest and the youngest Blights let it slide and put up with Em’s occasional grumpy ramblings.

“Still not rich,” Emira grumbles.

“But famous~” Edric sing-songs.

“Just… how rich are we?” Amity wonders with curiosity. An idea surfaces in her mind, and, while she does like her independence, now that Luz and her are gonna be married…

“Don’t worry, Mittens.” Emira smiles warmly. “We’re rich enough. Even though Ed spends money left and right, our family fortune still holds above a trillion snails.” Then she mutters, “even with the disastrous inflation. I mean, I’m doing what I can—”

“—In this horrible economy,” everyone but Jerbo finishes for her.

The professor looks up. “What? I know that’s Em’s catchphrase, I just refuse to partake in something as childish.” 

“So… You know how you always try to get me presents?” It feels weird for Amity to talk about something like this. 

“Yes, we do.” Edric grins, but apparently decides it’s better not to mention his particular ideas for presents. 

“And…” Amity chews the inside of her lip a bit. “You know how Luz and I are renting an apartment?”

“Yes.” Emira has put down her Kit-kat and is smiling. “We know.”

“So… I was wondering. The landlord mentioned that if he’s offered a lump sum of a million snails, he would ‘sell the apartment in a heartbeat’.” Amity makes inverted commas in the air with her fingers.

“Uhuh…” Emira doesn’t even sound intrigued, her voice giving up what she already knows. _Well, of course she does. She knows everything that ever happens on the real estate market._

“And,” Amity’s voice trembles for a second as she tries to collect herself, “I was thinking of buying out the apartment from him. Luz likes it, I like it, we’re probably gonna stay there forever, why pay the rent?”

She hears a sniff, but, to her shock, it isn’t Edric, it’s Emira. Her sister is wiping off a tear as the rest of the Blight House Crew looks at her in surprise. “What?” the witch sniffs. “Mittens is finally aware of how the economy works.”

Amity rolls her eyes. “So I was wondering if we can afford it? I mean, I don’t really have a job — teaching is more of a… an exercise in self-fulfilment.” 

Her mind wanders back to a conversation she had with Emira years ago. She remembers how the older witch assured her a job was necessary — not because of the money (though that too) but because of a sense of belonging and participation. And now she kinda sees it, even though she only teaches two classes per week. With everyone mixing magic now, few students actually decide to go into Advanced Abominations.

“You’re the heir to the biggest fortune in both realms — of course you can afford it.” Ed picks up his special spork — a present from Luz. A ridiculous present stemming from the most ridiculous friendship imaginable. “Don’t forget it’s all yours too — Em and I just run the estate.”

“Ed is right, Mittens.” Emira looks at Edric, who is trying to balance the spork on his nose. “Well, um, I run the estate. Edric is, uh, in the papers.”

“Don’t mind me, just gawking in awe at how awesome my wife is,” Viney gushes with sheer love and adoration in her eyes.

“Don’t mind me, just wondering how I ended up with Edric as my husband.” Jerbo takes away the spork, much to the eldest Blight’s displeasure.

“Thank you, Em, thank you, Ed.” Amity feels warmth resurface inside her. _I almost forgot I’m engaged to Luz now!_ she squeals mentally. “I mean, it makes sense to buy out the apartment, now that Luz has proposed to me.”

“Exactly!” Emira exclaims, then freezes.

Slowly, she looks at Edric, Viney, Jerbo, and then back at Amity. “Wait, WHAT?!”

“And you didn’t tell us???” Edric yells, his mouth working way more than necessary for the words he’s saying.

“I, uh, I told you just now?” Amity chuckles sheepishly. _Oops._

“We _have to_ throw you a bachelorette party!” Edric exclaims, running around the table to drag his little sister by the waist. Or, well, he intends to, but in reality drags her by the shoulders. _Titan, I’m really short compared to them, aren’t I._

“Edric, behave!” Emira grunts, but, as she’s chiding, a smile breaks onto her lips. “I can’t believe our little sister is getting married~” she squeals.

Yet the brother persists. “ _My_ bachelor party was wild, with tons of alcohol and naked men and—”

Jerbo coughs up his tea.

Emira shoots Edric a look. “Your bachelor party was you crying into my shoulder for two hours about how beautiful Jerbo is for marrying you.”

Amity begins to laugh while Edric blushes, looking away. “Also alcohol.”

“Yes, Viney gave you some medicine to calm your nerves. It _did_ have a bit of alcohol,” Emira agrees. 

“It did, about one percent,” Viney confirms with her signature troublemaker grin.

“Well, I—” It’s actually funny to see her brother this flustered, Amity muses as Edric is searching for a come-back. “I’m older than you!” 

“Really, Ed. _Really._ ” Emira rolls her eyes. “That’s always been your go-to argument since we were six. Also, you’re older by, like, forty minutes.”

Listening to the friendly banter across the table, taking in the wonderful sight that is two married couples — which will soon be her and Luz’s future — and keeping up with all the wedding planning, Amity can conclude that yes, there is _definitely_ a lot that’s special about this tea-time.

_______________

The tea-time with Luz is infinitely better.

Wrapped in a blanket, sitting on one of the many sofas in the living room, listening to Luz gushing about their wedding and how excited her Mom was, and how excited _she_ was that her Mom was excited that she was getting married, and how excited Eda was (for some reason) to learn that her Mom was excited — all of this is way too good for Amity.

So she starts crying.

Luz stops talking immediately and wraps her arms around her fiancée. “I’m so sorry, Ames, did my idea for the draperies upset you? Do you want a divorce?”

“No, _idiota_ ,” Amity sobs into her stupid fiancée’s shoulder. “I am so happy, I don’t deserve to be this happy.”

“Oh, I see, _you_ ’re the idiot and you’re projecting.” The care in Luz’s voice is only amplified by her phrasing. “You deserve so much more than a silly human with two half-published novels.”

Amity keeps sniffing. “You’re the smartest, most gorgeous, most resourceful person in the universe, and you’re marrying me.”

“Yes,” Luz keeps up in a slightly-condescending tone that Edric and Emira would usually use with her, “because I love you, my bright, wonderful, stupid, intelligent, beautiful Amity.”

“I heard the ‘stupid’,” Amity smirks through tears, still taking in the wonderful nothingness that comes with burying her eyes into Luz’s shoulder. 

“Then stop being stupid,” Luz suggests, pressing her lips against Amity’s temple. “You’re my _soulmate_ , hermosa, we’re meant for each other, everything else is just anxiety speaking.”

Amity lifts her head with a smile, her vision blurred slightly from the tears — but Luz’s face in the foreground is fresh and crispy, the girl’s wonderful eyes locked with hers. “It’s always so simple when you say it.”

Luz nods. “Because it _is_ simple.”

The moment is inevitably ruined by the doorbell — an actual human doorbell — and Amity debates whether to destroy it with magic or just tear it out of the wall. _No one ruins a moment like this._

“If it’s the twins, I’ll just murder them,” Amity suggests lazily, but Luz is already up and walking towards the door. 

“I swear, if it isn’t my Mom or the Empress of the Boiling Isles—” Luz calls out, but squees immediately at the open door. “Eda! Lilith! Come in, come in!”

Amity rolls over on the sofa, reluctant to get up. _Well, technically Eda is like a second Mom to Luz, and Lilith is the Empress, so she’s technically correct. The best kind of correct._

“So, kid, how’s married life treating ya?” Eda wraps her arms around the human, drawing her close. Amity’s all too happy that the Owl Lady is now used to the wonderful idea of hugs.

“We’re not married yet…” Luz mumbles while Eda ruffles her hair.

“Ah, already shy, calm, and happy.” The grey-haired witch nods solemnly. “The worst effects a marriage can have on a person.”

Lilith merely rolls her eyes and walks past her sister into the living room. “This is a really nice apartment, Amity.” The Empress looks around. “Why do you need six sofas in one living room?”

“She’s compensating.” Luz follows Eda into the living room as well. “And it’s gonna be a while before our wedding. There’s so much to plan!”

Amity nods eagerly. “Oh yes, so many charts to make!” _The best thing about getting married to Luz!_ “Though,” she adds sheepishly, “I’m sure I’ll need something stronger than that tiny courage potion — for the actual wedding.”

“Aww, _mi amor_ , you had to drink a courage potion to propose?” Luz cradles her fiancée in an embrace gleefully. “That’s so sweet — couldn’t you just, like, start guessing my middle name instead?”

“I tried.” Amity frees herself from the human’s grasp. “You know I tried, Sabrina.”

Luz blinks. “I don’t even have a talking cat.”

_What does that even mean?_

“There’s no such thing as a courage potion.” Eda’s smugness lights up the entire apartment as she elbows her sister. “Is there? Is there?”

“But…” Amity searches her pockets for the vial.

“It was just water,” Lilith admits with a tiny smile. “I saw how nervous you were, so I decided to show you that the courage was inside you all along.”

“NO it WASN’T!” Amity jumps up with a shriek, but, before she can reach the Empress and do irreparable damage, Luz grabs her, holding her in place.

 _How. Dare. She!_ Amity’s eye twitches.

“The only reason,” she says more calmly, freeing herself from Luz’s grasp gently. “The _only_ reason why I’m not punching you _in the face_ is because you’re the one who gives me a free pass every time I punch other people in the face.”

“Also because I’m your ruler and mentor who has taught you everything you know?” The Empress offers with a bashful smile.

“You heard me, Lilith,” Amity spits with peaceful malice. “You heard me.”

The air is rather thick, and it seems only Eda is enjoying it to the fullest, rummaging through the kitchen drawers.

“Um…” Luz shifts her feet. “In case anyone’s still wondering, it’s not Sabrina.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and leaving kudos and your wonderful comments! Unfortunately the next chapter is (most likely) going to take a long, long while. I'm really sorry for this upcoming delay, but I do feel like I need to warn you. Again, thank you for reading!


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedding bells will ring, as soon as Amity can make this wedding perfect — and maybe figure out her fiancée’s middle name in the process. Luz is worried, Amity is worried, the Twins are worried, and Lilith is so done. Luz makes a wish, the twins make a mess, and Amity makes a chart.

“Look at this chart!”

Amity is positively seething. No, actually, she is _negatively_ seething, because it’s her wedding, and everything is ruined, and the twins’ chronic inability to follow instructions is killing her. But not before she kills _them_.

“No, Loooook at this graaaaaph~” Luz sings back to her from the scroll, which is lying on the little desk in the corner.

The room is small, and plain, and doesn’t look at all like a bridal room. Perhaps Amity should have taken Emira up on the suggestion to have the ceremony in the palace. Then again, Lilith is officiating, and she’s probably tired of the palace already, even with the throne room back with the rightful Empress. Instead of a bunch of human tourists.

There’s really nothing but a sofa ( _just one! WHY?_ ), the little desk, and the lonely flower pot by the window which is begging her to throw it at someone. The only reason Amity is resisting is because she can’t throw the pot at both Edric and Emira at the same time.

“No, you _cannot_ woo me with vine references!” Amity shrieks at her almost-wife ( _never-to-be-wife at this rate!)_ who is supposed to be calming her down by being on speaker.

Honestly, though, it isn’t working, and it’s all Edric’s fault. Because only Edric could be uneducated enough to insult Amity’s wedding ceremony with light-purple balloons. When Amity clearly told him — and _charted_ it out — that the colour should be ‘a tame dark violet’. 

_A tiny Amity appears in front of a writing desk, drinking a protein shake from a brandy glass. The fireplace is cracking, marshmallows on wooden sticks waiting to get crispy nearby._

_“Ah, the plight of the Blights!” the tiny Amity laments, lifting her glass, the sleeves of her cyan pyjama sliding down her forearms. “My brother, everyone.” She stirs the protein shake with a toothpick. “What an uncultured simpleton.”_

“You had two whole _weeks_ to make everything perfect!” Amity chides, the sternness in her voice washed over by pre-wedding anxiety. It’s unbelievable how Ed couldn’t manage, even with the leisurely allowance of a full fortnight. “What were you even doing?”

“I was doing Jerbo!” Edric points to the corner where Jerbo is sitting on the floor — well, technically on a white embroidered pillow — and looking through Amity’s (numerous) charts.

“Hey! Don’t pin this on me!” the professor retorts from his comfy spot, failing to even take his eyes off the scrolls.

“ _You_ were the one pinning me!”

Disregarding the obvious confession of sinful disgust, Amity keeps advancing on her brother, who, despite being significantly taller, shrinks under her murderous gaze, backing into the wall. 

“It’s a very simple Yes-or-No flow-chart.” Amity’s voice is low and (hopefully) menacing. “And each answer takes you to another chart. You literally have a chart for each separate issue! Is it that hard to understand?! Should I make another chart to explain all the other charts?!”

“NO! No, Mittens, no!” Edric and Emira scream in what seems to be horror, waving their hands in front of them. 

_Good._ But, since merely inducing fear in her stupid siblings is not enough, the bride extends her arm towards her sister, her eyes shooting icicles worthy of the coldest hails.

“Em, please hand me the rusty spear so I can murder our brother.”

“Oh!” Emira is visibly relieved and, it seems, eager to leave the room and evade punishment. “I was wondering why you specified one on page 1734.”

Amity closes her eyes and takes a deep breath — Luz said these are supposed to calm you down. “Use the proper term, please.”

“Sorry, on AmityChartPage 1734,” Emira amends, while Edric pales beyond belief at the predicament of being impaled on a rusty spear. _With extra rust!_

_That’s better._

“There is an error in your chart.”

Edric and Emira freeze in horror as both of them shift their gaze towards Jerbo, who, a pencil in hand, is looking up from a stack of scrolls — provided courtesy of Amity. 

“It was nice knowing you, husband,” Edric whispers with a sniff. “I’ll miss you.”

“What?” Jerbo is calm, way too calm for what is about to hit him.

It’s Amity if anyone is wondering. Amity is about to hit him.

However, the begrudging bride settles on a different approach. “Oh, yes?” Amity’s voice is dripping malicious sarcasm. Because Amity does _not_ make mistakes. Especially when it comes down to charts. “And where, if I may wonder, did I make an error?”

“There’s a juxtaposition on Page 126.” Jerbo extends the scroll, while the Twins start waving their hands at him in panic.

“Use the proper name!” Amity shrieks, very glad that she doesn’t have a rusty spear to throw at the offender. Because marrying Luz from jail is not the best— _Actually, it might be easier than all of this._

“Sorry!” the young professor amends. “On AmityChartPage 126.” The brunette extends the scroll so that it’s visible to the seething bride. “Here, if you interpret the answer to question 7 as ‘yes’, it leads to ‘light purple’. But if you answer ‘no’, _while_ answering ‘yes’ to question 4 on AmityChartPage 115, it also leads to ‘light purple’.” 

Jerbo shifts the pack of scrolls, fishing out the necessary one. “Here. And also AmityChartPage 1849 clarifies that one should disregard the balloons if the questions on AmityChartPages 167-198 are all ‘yes’.”

Amity grabs the scrolls and delves into the study of what she considered to be the perfect pyramid of charts. It’s all thought-out, well-defined, logical, falling into perfect pro— 

And then she sees it.

“I made an error in a chart,” Amity mumbles in sheer disbelief, the mistake actually transcending disbelief, dancing on the border of dreamscape and surrealism. “I haven’t done something like this since I was _six_.”

“Oh no,” Emira whispers with terror in her voice. “Mittens is gonna crash and sulk.”

“Quick, Luz!” Edric quips, jumping towards the scroll, as if it can intensify his voice. “Say something lascivious, fast!”

Jerbo looks at his husband with both pride and disbelief. “I didn’t know you had such a broad ken.”

Edric’s face grows slightly pink as he swiftly looks around and whispers, “Not here, love. We can talk about how broad my ken is in the bedroom.”

“Ames!” Luz’s voice chirps crisply from the speaker. “Please don’t worry, after we’re married, I’ll let you draw a chart _on me_.”

“Mija!” a disgruntled female voice chides her from the scroll-on-speaker.

“Ah, Cami, come on,” Eda’s croaks with a sigh, “don’t be one of those moms.”

“A-are we t-talking a pie chart or—” Amity’s tongue needs more saliva because it’s sandpaper by now. _More Luz’s saliva._

“A full flow chart,” her wife-to-be makes a long-distance promise. “With multiple answers.”

Amity can feel the tips of her fingers trembling with anticipation. 

“Imagine this, Ames,” Luz carries on while Eda’s snickers disrupt the mood more than a bit. “I would ask you ‘what’s the sexiest part of me’, and you could say ‘the chart’. Isn’t that, like, your dream?”

Yes, of course it’s Amity’s dream. It has always been Amity’s dream. Well, not always. When she was a kid, she wanted a chart plushie to cuddle at night. But as soon as she got Luz to cuddle at night, her dream shifted a little. Even so, such a wild, untamed fantasy still can’t fully calm her nerves. 

“Back in my day,” Edric grumbles, now off-the-hook for the balloons, “newlyweds would just go home and have sex all night.”

“Are you legitimately joking right now?” Jerbo sighs, rubbing his forehead in exhaustion. “You cried into my chest half the night because you couldn’t believe we were finally married. And then you watched a human documentary about dinosaurs and cried for three more hours.”

“BECAUSE THEY DIDN’T DESERVE TO GO EXTINCT!”

A familiar silence envelops the room, the kind of silence that only surfaces after Edric has said something equally stupid and endearing at the same time. A while ago Edmira tried to patent or trademark it as ‘The Edric Silence’ but, thankfully, in vain.

Meanwhile, Amity has already collapsed onto the little chair next to the desk, peeking at the screen where her bride is supposed to be — but isn’t.

“Why can’t we videochat?” Amity laments. “You know seeing your face would make me feel so much better.” It feels selfish to exploit Luz this way, but it’s her wedding, after all. _Then again, it’s also Luz’s wedding._

“Because you’re not supposed to see each other before the wedding!” Camila chips in on the speakerphone. “I already agreed to break tradition once. You don’t have a priest! You don’t even have a nun!” 

Then, there is Eda’s curious tone. “So you like nuns, huh?”

“Eda, I swear to God—” Camila’s groan is interrupted by Luz’s grunts as she is, ostensibly, trying to fit in her suit.

“Moooom, I told you not to buy a slim-fit jacket for my suit,” Luz wails, disrupting the emerging fight on the other side of the conversation. “My shoulders are too wide and my waist feels too weird.”

Amity would _love_ to see Luz in her slim-fit suit, and, in fact, she begged Camila to get one for her sexy athletic fiancée, and she knows Luz secretly loves showing off her muscles in tight-fit pieces, even if her go-to clothing is pyjamas and loose-fit jogging pants. 

“Because the trousers match so well, mija!”

Oh yes, Amity can _bet_ the trousers match. In fact, she can bet they would come off very easily when— _Okay, I’m not that thirsty to think dirty thoughts about Luz right before our wedding._

Amity’s emotions are a mess, she’s on a rollercoaster— no, actually, she’s on a ferris-wheel-rollercoaster ride: it’s not just ups and downs, energy and exhaustion, excitement and sadness. It’s all at once, and it’s shaking her and spinning her, and she’s mad at Edric and she’s scared of something going wrong, and she’s anxious to live up to the standards of a _wife_ , because she’s never been a wife, and how the hell is she supposed to be one? She hasn’t changed, she’s still the same Amity, the same ignorant, dense, selfish messy girl that no one can ever love and Luz chose to love her which is unbelievable and now Luz is _marrying_ her so— 

Emira’s hands wrap her shoulders kindly and, at once, another pair of arms joins in, firmer but kind and gentle all the same — Edric’s.

Amity sniffs, and expects tears to flow freely like the waters of Babylon — but these tears never come because she becomes a tiny baby puddle protected by her siblings, and her anxiety quiets down — at least enough for her to keep up with the wedding.

“Aww, Ames, are you crying?” Luz’s voice is too concerned — if there is even such a thing as ‘too’ concerned when it comes down to her caring, devoted fiancée. “Is it because you didn’t get to propose back? I thought we’d agreed I’ll wear your ring and it solves it?”

“It does.” Amity smiles through residue tears. “I just love you so much.”

“ _Te amo también, mi pendejita~_ ” Luz sing-songs, and Amity is good enough at Spanish to scowl, then chuckle at the pet name. “Mooom, the suit is itchy!” 

“Well,” Camila’s voice retorts from the speaker, “You insisted on it! You didn’t want to wear a nice dress like Amity!”

On the one hand, it’s endearing to always hear Luz’s Mom going around about how her daughter-in-law (she _actually_ started calling her that way before the proposal) is nice, and dresses so well, and chooses her colours, and is an example to follow.

On the other hand, it does make things very awkward, like that time when Amity bought Luz a pair of shoes, and Camila told her daughter to ‘throw away those and swap them for something Amity would wear’.

“Mom, we’ve been through this a million times already.” Amity can hear Luz huffing on the other side. “I’m a tomboy, I don’t like dresses.”

“Just because you’re marrying a woman doesn’t mean you should dress like a man, mija.”

“Yes,” Eda drawls, “For example, your Mom dresses aaaaall feminine and she’s still—”

“Not a word, Edalyn,” Camila interrupts sharply, “or I swear to God I will get my slipper!” 

“Ooooh!” The Owl Lady’s tone is unusually playful. “Is that supposed to scare me off or turn me on?”

“Eww, you’re both disgusting!” Luz shrieks, setting the scroll frequency off with a crispy rasp. “Sorry, Ames, it’s just weird to listen to your ersatz-Mom flirting with your Mom. But don’t worry,” she adds, “when we have a kid, we’re not gonna be this weird.”

_Kid? As in, a child? As in, a child conceived by Luz and me?! As in, me and Luz bringing a bundle of light, joy and sunshine into this cold, cruel world of pain and horrible economic downfall?_

“Eep!” is all Amity can say, because she does _not_ want to think _that_ far ahead on her wedding day. 

And also because their child would look like her _and_ Luz, which would make the most beautiful and smartest and bravest daughter in the universe and of course her name would be Azura and why is she still nurturing this idea? 

_Two tiny Amities are standing in the middle of the tiny version of her and Luz’s living room, arms crossed, both wearing identical white T-shirts. Except one of the T-shirts says ‘Amity’ and the other one says ‘Luz’._

_“I can’t believe she’s done that!” The tiny ‘Luz’-Amity seems cross, while the tiny Amity-Amity looks both fearful and desperate. “She promised to be home by ten!”_

_“What if she got kidnapped?” The tiny Amity-Amity shrieks, pinching her hand. “What if she got eaten by a monster? What if she got kidnapped and then eaten by a monster?”_

_There is a sound of keys jingling in the door lock, and the door opens near-silently, letting in an even tinier tiny Amity who is wearing a familiar white T-shirt that says ‘Azura the rebellious teenage daughter’._

_“Heeeey, Mom. Mama.” The tiny ‘Azura’-Amity shoots finger guns at both parent figures, but finds no positive feedback. “Come on, nothing happened, I was just seeing a girl.”_

_“A girl?!” the tiny Amity-Amity shrieks._

_“And a boy.” The tiny Azura-Amity huffs._

_“At the same time?” the tiny Luz-Amity wonders sternly._

_“It’s not like I was leading them on!” the tiny Azura-Amity kicks off her shoes and, parading past her mothers, plops on the sofa. “They also like each other, I’m poly, I thought of all the people you would be understanding!”_

_“You are only allowed to date when you start skipping less than half of your classes!” the tiny Luz-Amity chides. “I didn’t get where I am by skipping seventy percent of college!”_

_“Until then,” the tiny Amity-Amity joins in, “you are strictly book-amorous and study-sexual! Now, about violating the Holy Chart of the Noceda Household…”_

In fact, Amity is not even surprised. _I mean, I already know my subconscious is the worst, why do I even care anymore?_ But still, this is yet another level of insanity, entirely. 

“Sorry, love, I totally forgot about the Curse!” Luz drags Amity from her reverie. “How about you try to guess my middle name instead?”

Camilla can be heard sighing deeply. In fact, Amity can swear she _hears_ Doña Noceda rubbing her temples. “I still don’t understand why you can’t just tell the poor girl it’s—”

“Moooom, we know what we’re doing!”

“You’re the best, and I love you so very much,” Amity whispers, then has to repeat the same thing louder, because she’s way too far from the scroll now.

“I love you very much too, Ames.”

Amity moves closer to the scroll, disregarding the four people in the room evidently happy that she’s not pissy anymore, but displeased that the wedding preparations are not progressing whatsoever. “I love you, Carmen?”

“Nope.”

“Daria?” Amity licks her lips, and Edric gags in the corner.

“Nu-uh.”

“Blanca?”

“Yes, you got me.” Luz’s voice is sombre but relieved.

“What?” 

Amity cannot believe that. It’s been years, years of her trying to figure out her crush’s — then girlfriend’s — then lover’s — then partner’s — then fiancée’s — middle name. And now, it seems that she will never have to guess her wife’s middle name because she got it all figured out right before their wedding.

“Yes, after all these years…” Luz sighs, and Amity can see the smile.

“Well,” Amity waves her hand. “It hasn’t been _that_ long.” She sees Emira whispering, _It has been very, VERY long, Mittens._

“Right on our wedding day…” Luz sounds like she’s… proud?

Amity is also proud, so incredibly proud of herself — but she decides to be humble. “Ah, it took me like a few thousand attempts.”

“You still haven’t guessed my middle name,” Luz finishes, and Eda’s laughter can be heard in the background.

In the foreground, Edric and Emira join in gleefully, accompanied by Viney, while Jerbo merely contributes a reserved chuckle from his corner.

“I hate you, Blanca.” Amity wishes Luz could see the love on her face right now — but knows her human can hear it in her voice.

“You’re marrying me, Ames.” 

As if on cue, there is a knock on the door, and, before Amity — or anyone more eager — can answer, Lilith’s head peeks in unceremoniously. Which is blasphemous, because she _is_ the one officiating the ceremony.

“Hi, Lilith!” Emira chirps enthusiastically. “I don’t know if you’ve ever met my wife Viney? She’s my wife.” As if that wasn’t clear enough, she draws her wifey wife by the waist. “Let me introduce you. Lilith, this is my wife Viney. Viney, this is Lilith, my tenant.”

Lilith clears her throat loudly, still not stepping inside the room.

“Oh, yes,” the Blight amends with a nod, “she’s also the Empress of the Boiling Isles.”

“I know.” Viney glances at Emira sternly, then bows her head deeply to Lilith. “Your Majesty, please forgive my wife, she can sometimes be incredibly stupid.”

“Must be all the married life getting to my head!” Emira sounds way too gleeful to be considered appropriate. Yet she doesn’t seem ashamed in the slightest.

“Well, if Amity still wants to get married, can we speed up the process a bit? I had to postpone a diplomatic visit because of the wedding, and I’d really like to get my evening briefing.”

Edric snorts, unabashed. “Who needs those diplomats anyway?”

Lilith’s eyes convey a very particular brand of murder only reserved for the worst criminals and people who don’t take their shoes off on the sofa. And Edric, of course.

“Next time you want to get that Capri-sun shipment, do remember that bilateral relations are a basic prerequisite for international trade,” the Empress says more calmly that Amity has expected.

Hopelessly lost, the eldest Blight turns to his husband, who, with a sigh, explains, “Let the Empress do her job so that Emira can do her job so that you can drink all those juices you like.”

“Clear!” Edric annonces, jumping towards Amity, who is too anxious to move away, but not anxious enough to punch him in the face. “Come on, Mittens, go get that dress.”

Lilith disappears with a less-than-satisfied grunt, and Amity shuts her eyes. Luz is still on speaker, grunting as the obviously-itchy suit is unnerving her.

Meanwhile, Em has created an illusion barrier for the bride to step behind — which she does, reluctantly putting the scroll closer to her. _As if a couple centimetres is gonna make a difference in sound quality._

And her human keeps on talking, disregarding her own physical discomfort for the sake of her witch’s mental comfort. Luz’s voice is always soothing, but right now it’s smooth and deep and sexy, and Amity doesn’t even notice all the pins Emira is putting in her dress as she makes the folds ‘stand out’.

“Think _past_ the wedding, Ames,” Luz continues her calming routine. “I learned this super cool illusion glyph from Em and Ed… There’ll be _two_ of me — imagine all the possibilities.”

Oh yes, Amity can imagine, and her mouth runs drier than a desert. She licks her lips absent-mindedly as her brain runs through all the possible scenarios — all of them equally arousing. She imagines Luz cooking, while _the other_ Luz is changing the lightbulb. Or one Luz combing her hair while the other Luz is doing her nails. Or one Luz playing videogames with her while the other Luz films it.

It seems Luz has an even better scenario. “I could be washing the dishes _and_ cleaning the apartment at the same time.”

“Sold!” Amity shrieks and Emira snorts with laughter, putting some finishing touches on the ‘best dress money can buy’. 

Apparently, being ‘the best’ also included threatening the best fashion designers in the Isles _and_ the human realm into working non-stop, disregarding all their projects to deliver a perfect wedding dress for Amity in under two weeks. 

And, looking at herself in the mirror, Amity can’t complain. “It’s perfect,” she tells Emira, and for the first time in a while she sees her sister shed an honest happy tear.

“I wish I could see you right now, love,” Luz mumbles through the speaker, and honestly, can she be _more_ endearing — all flustered and cute and loving on the day of their actual _wedding_?

“Aww, I really want to make fun of you two, but I’ll hold it in,” Edric coos, and, while Amity really wants to tell him something including Jerbo and ‘holding it in’, she resists.

Instead, she merely walks out, illusion dispelled, forcing Viney and Jerbo to gasp in awe at her — hopefully — beautiful dress. “It’s okay, Ed, we all know you’re the resident jester.”

“I’ll have you know!” the Blight announces with fake grandeur, unmoved by the bride’s beauty. “The slitherbeast might be the king of the Knee, but a Blight never performs in a circus!” Edric huffs, crossing his arms.

“You are literally a circus performer, Ed. That’s your job. You run a circus and perform there every weekend.” Emira looks over Amity, satisfied with the result. “While I run this circus called the Blight Family.”

“And co!” Luz supplies cheerfully from the scroll speaker.

“Ah, come on, you’re basically family at this point!” Edric fistbumps the scroll, eliciting deadpans from the entire room. “What? We’re BBFs! We’re supposed to fistbump!” 

“Isn’t it BFFs?” Viney questions, reaching into her bag for a snack.

Alas, Emira took all the snacks away. From everyone. Amity knows. Because Amity asked her because if _she_ isn’t eating until the wedding is over, then _no one_ is eating until she is officially married to Luz. And if her reasoning is not adding fuel to a potential anxious throw-up, then the rest… _Well, the rest will look forward to the reception a bit more, I guess._

“No, we’re Best Bros Forever.” Luz deciphers for her friend.

Viney snickers. “You better watch out, Amity, seems like Ed is gonna steal your fiancée and replace you with Luz as his sister.”

_What the f—_

“Why are you even here? To quip witty remarks?” Amity snaps, and immediately feels guilty. 

She’s been holding up so well, but being in a dress puts more pressure on her. Up to this point, it’s all been preparations and banter and wedding-to-be. Now she actually has to step behind that door and walk to the wedding hall. Now it’s actually the beginning of The Wedding.

Doesn’t help that Viney’s sense of humour is doctorly. In its worst sense. Because, to be honest, doctors have the worst sense of humour in existence. And the joke was just as stupid and misplaced as any joke Viney utters. Any joke that isn’t teasing Emira, that is: seeing her sister flustered is always very fun.

Still, it doesn’t give Amity the excuse to be a douchenozzle to sweet, kindly Viney.

“I’m here because I’m part of this family too.” Viney seems more offended than cold — but cold too. _She is no Edric, not a softie in the slightest._ “But if you want me gone, I’ll go.”

“Viney, I’m…” The bride sighs in defeat. “I’m so sorry, it’s just my nerves. My joke tolerance is really low right now, I didn’t mean to be mean to you.” Amity hangs her head low, and Edric is just in time to grab her chin, lest possible tears stain the dress. 

Emira is keeping an impartial distance, ready to jump in to aid either her wife or sister. Chances are, it’s probably her wife, considering how Amity’s behaviour is not exactly worthy of a gold star. _Not that Emira would ever buy gold in this economy, but the point still stands._

“It’s okay.” Viney’s demeanour chances in a heartbeat. “The joke was stupid and out of place.” 

Instead of taking out a (non-existent) snack, Viney produces a small vial. “Here, this is herbal, it’ll calm you down.”

With Edric’s hands carefully cupped beneath her chin — not a single drop can touch the dress! — Amity downs the potion in one gulp. It’s bitter, but then again, flowers are pretty bitter. _Haha, I should tell Willow that. Or not. Actually, not. It’s a bad and stupid idea. ...I should tell that to Boscha and see what happens. No, even worse._

“We didn’t follow the not-seeing-your-spouse-before-the-wedding procedure, so I can’t really empathise, but I can at least sympathise.” A smile is back on Viney’s face, and Amity almost tears up at how understanding her sister-in-law is.

“If you recall,” the young doctor proceeds with a toss of her hair, “our wedding preparations were no less hectic — but look where it brought us!”

Emira decides to close the warning distance, with the conflict dead in its tracks, and throws her arm around her wife. “The richest person in the universe and her trusty sidekick.”

Viney smirks, the urge to tease apparently still strong as ever. “I would say on certain nights _you_ are the sidekick.”

Amity now understands the plan. The devious plan devised by her horrible siblings and their no less horrible spouses. Trick her into exploding and feeling guilty, then humiliate her, make her despise her siblings, let her sink into a bottomless pit of disgust — all to forget her stress, worries, and anxiety. _Seems reasonable. Viney is a pretty good doctor, I see it now._

“We switch too,” Jerbo says, apparently going along with the silent ( _and long-conceived!_ ) plan to completely alienate Amity from the family.

“Ooooh, who’s usually the bottom?” Viney’s chin is on the back of her hand, which is a clownish gesture. Unless Luz makes it, then it’s noble and attractive.

Edric clears his throat. “I would appreciate it if you left our private life private.”

_Thank you, Edric, the only one who didn’t participate in the scheming. Love you, brother. All for my sake. ...No, actually, it’s probably for his own sake. Damn you, Edric, now I hate you again._

Viney and Emira exchange knowing looks.

— “Edric’s the bottom.”

— “Edric’s the bottom.”

“All right!” Luz’s (concerned) voice concludes from the speaker. “I think I’ve heard more than enough. Now let’s go get hitched, okay?”

Amity blinks. _It’s always so easy for her. Everything is simple in her world… Maybe it is._ She smiles and the nervousness subsidies in her inners, letting her breathe a bit.

“Okay, love! See you in a few minutes.” The scroll disconnects, and, with one final leap in her gut, the anxiety has turned from butter-texture to skimmed-milk-texture. _Titan, my inner monologue is worse than my subconscious projections._

“Look, Mittens, it could have gone worse.” Edric is no longer holding his sister’s dress by the fabric, and skilfully avoids his twin as he waltzes towards the now-standing Jerbo. “On my wedding day I was so nervous I glued myself to Jerbo with a perma-glue spell.”

“Yes, I was there, I remember.” Amity feels a little better, at least all she’s had is crippling anxiety and debilitating worry. _Wait, I could actually do that!_ “I should have done that to Luz yesterday.”

“Eh…” Jerbo shakes his head, checking his bow tie. “Since it takes a while to spell it off, going to the bathroom was very weird that week.”

 _Ew._ “Okay, you know what?” Amity huffs, taking a step towards the door, her dress folding up a little. “It’s working. I am officially calm. Let’s go. Also I am officially disowning both of you.”

Viney smirks while Jerbo giggles to himself.

“Also you two, you…” Amity’s finger is the divine instrument of accusation. “Co-perpetrators.”

“So…” Emira’s smirk could melt glaciers — but not Amity’s disdain. “if we’re disowned, does it mean we don’t have to walk you down the aisle?”

“Oh shut up and hold my dress.” The youngest Blight is legitimately laughing, and the Twins are picking up her dress to let her out. 

Amity’s gaze shifts backwards, her neck cracking precariously. _I don’t know how people do that. Maybe I need some kinesiotherapy. ...Maybe I need to check what kinesiotherapy means, first._

“I don’t say that often but I love you more than anyone.” Amity lets her neck fall back into the casual straightforward state. “All of you. You’re my family.”

Amity almost trips, because the left side of her dress has been dropped and because Edric is out of commission, wailing loudly into his hands, while Jerbo is trying to hold him as close to possible. _Perhaps he is muffling his cries so people don’t think I’m torturing him._

Emira sighs, looking at the clock. “Aaaand here we go again…”

___________________

  
  


The room is too small, way too small, and the seats can barely accommodate all the guests. Some of them are standing by the walls, crowding in the corners, but at least the actually invited people are occupying the little plastic chairs. _They should have been velvet._

The balloons are all wrong, and the ‘Freshly Married’ banner (Luz insisted) is at an outrageous 17-degree angle instead of the reasonable 16 degrees or adventurous 19 degrees. Lilith’s postament is too low for an Empress to stand on: it seems like she’s just a guest and not the witch who’s about to unite two celebrities in eternal matrimony. 

The pathway to the altar is too narrow, Amity realises, Emira smiling on her right arm and Edric already sobbing on her left. _I hope he doesn’t break into tears before I say ‘I do’._ The guests are in their way so they are proceeding slower than AmityChartPage 1885 recommends— 

But who cares about any of that when _Luz_ is standing by the altar, Eda smirking in the distance in her ridiculous violet suit, a blue rose pinned in her lapel, while Camila is by her daughter’s side, Luz’s forearm white from her mother’s emotional grip.

Everything is gone. The hall, the twins, the guest, the anxiety, the insecurity, the guilt, the shame, the anger, the fear. Nothing exists but her and Luz — just like the Grom night almost ten years ago, when love gave way to fear for the first time in Amity’s life.

“Buenas, hermosa,” Luz greets her, the human’s tiny, sweet smile a contrast to her usual happy grin. Of course she is happy, Amity _knows_ , but it’s nice to see Luz shy — for it’s quite a rare sight.

“Hello, beautiful,” Amity repeats breathlessly. It feels like the first time she saw Luz — okay, no, the first time she saw Luz she hated her. 

_A tiny Amity in pyjamas is typing excitedly on her laptop in a basement. Her eyes are bewildered, and the speed at which she is typing is stupefying. There is a lonely lamp, whose light is falling onto damp, grey walls of concrete._

_“Yes, yes,” the tiny Amity mutters under her breath. “Five thousand more words, and it’s enemies to lovers!”_

Meanwhile, in the real world, Lilith has taken her place at the altar, gracing the two brides with a nod and the excited audience with a wave. _Apparently, Lilith is a pretty popular Empress. Guess only Emira thinks she ruined the economy._

“We have gathered here—” Lilith begins in the established silence, and Luz closes her eyes, tugging at her suit slightly, whispering something in Spanish under her breath. 

Amity is surprised and more than a little horrified that Luz would resort to praying — _am I really that unpredictable? Or is she praying for the wedding? Or what’s going on?_ “You’re… chanting?” Amity suggests, knowing that Luz is not exactly the religious type.

“I was making a wish, _hermosa_ ,” Luz whispers with love dripping out of her eyes. Oh, wait, no. That’s tears. Tears dripping out of her eyes. “Gosh, you’re so beautiful.”

And Amity feels the tears too, thankfully hidden behind her veil — but not to Luz, of course. “ _You’re_ beautiful. What did you wish for?”

“Can’t tell you,” Luz sniffs, not even caring to wipe the tears off her captivating face. “Otherwise it might not come true.”

Amity looks at her, and everything fades away: Lilith, the hallway, the Twins at her side crying into each other’s shoulders. The guests, the balloons, the charts — yes, even the charts — none of that matters anymore. Only Luz matters. 

“My wish already came true,” Amity says, and she has never been this earnest.

Luz knows, of course she knows, and takes Amity’s sweaty hands in her — no less sweaty — hands. They lock eyes and, in the silence of the hall around them, exchange a wordless conversation (after all, Lilith _is_ speaking) only readable by the two lovers, whose faces and gazes say more than lips ever could.

_— Nervous?_

_— Has been worse._

_— I love you, Ames._

_— I love you too, Luz. More than the world._

_— Gosh, you’re sappy._

_— You’re marrying me, you sap._

_— It’s finally happening, isn’t it?_

_— Yes, it is._

_— Do you think I can return this suit with the receipt? It’s really itchy._

_— Luz! Can’t we, like, focus on the wedding or something?_

_— Yeah, you’re right. We should return the suit though._

Meanwhile, Lilith is pontificating on the sanctity of marriage and the importance of being able to marry the person you love, and something something, and then something else, and Amity is not really listening because she is trembling, Luz’s supportive smile and her hands in hers the only beacons guiding her, Luz being the sole buoy keeping her grounded in the ocean of life’s turmoil.

There is less time to fail, so there are almost no nerves involved. Because in Amity’s heart she is confident because she knows what to do. It’s really simple, finally a simple event that she can dive into with an open heart, unrehearsed.

Amity just has to say ‘I do’. It’s that easy.

_With slow, deliberate steps four tiny Amities carry another tiny Amity to the altar, where a tiny Amity priestess is waiting with a book that reads ‘Holy Book of Charts’._

_“We’re so proud of her,” two tiny Amities in the front row whisper to their neighbours. “Our little Amity getting married.”_

In the real world, Amity is taking a deep breath. _After all, the shrink said ‘don’t fight it, embrace it’._ Besides, she is calm, finally calm with Luz’s hands on hers, with Luz’s eyes in her eyes, with Luz almost her wife.

_Everything is taken care of, all the charts have been followed to the letter (where possible), so now it’s just a simple ‘I do’, and we’re married._

Lilith clears her throat and disrupts the momentary silence with her loud announcement. “So now it’s time for—”

“I do!” Amity blurts out, and Luz giggles, covering her mouth with a hand, but returns the hand back where it belongs immediately. 

“—your vows,” Lilith finishes, her face resembling a disgruntled minimum-wage employee working overtime and done with what their life has become. “I was gonna say it’s time for your vows.”

Amity’s blood runs cold. “We… We had to prepare _vows_?!” 

_Oh no._

_______________

It’s over, it’s finally over. Well, no, it’s not really over, because there’s the whole reception to sit through, but the horrors of the actual ceremony ended when Luz kissed Amity at the altar and carried her outside like she’d carried her all those years ago after a messy Grudgby game where Amity had broken her leg.

Photos and tears and cheers later, Amity knows it was all worth it. Everything was worth it, because she’s sitting at the special table with Luz, her _wife_ , by her side (she understands Emira’s obsession with the word now), Amity’s sweaty hands tight on a paper that reads ‘Luz and Amity Noceda’.

 _Amity Noceda._ The best name in existence has finally been granted to her, Amity the Cursed Witch. And she can’t be happier.

No, literally. She has utmost certainty in the fact that no one, ever, has been as happy as she is right now, with Luz by her side as her _wife. My wife my wife my wife my wife~_ Amity squees mentally. 

The green-haired witch leans in to kiss Luz, and the human gladly reciprocates, just as her beautiful chestnut eyes leave the empty stage up front and lock onto Amity’s.

There is a squeal from the nearby table — it’s probably Gus, because Willow’s voice surfaces a moment after, chiding but not condescending, rather sympathetic. Amity and Willow have never grown close since the incident — but Luz has always been a wonderful link tying the two together. 

On the left, Viney and Jerbo are talking excitedly to Barcus, who took the time to come by and attend the ceremony. It’s nice seeing the three friends back together, and not seeing Edric and Emira with them.

_Wait._

“Where’s Ed and Em?” Amity asks her wife ( _wife! Squee!)_ as panic washes over her insides. 

“I don’t know,” Luz shrugs, “I thought they wanted to host the reception?”

_No, no no no, those two are the worst possible people to host anything but a slapstick juvenile rom-com play. I should have made a chart for the post-wedding reception as well..._

The lights go off. 

_No no no,_ Amity begins to chant, but Luz’s peaceful, serene expression instills some tranquillity into the witch’s heart as well. After all, if her wife thinks it’s okay, then it’s okay.

 _It’s okay._ Even her siblings aren’t _that_ horrible. And even if Edric is impulsive enough, surely Emira would always stop him. And not join in. Not in the slightest. Because they didn’t totally spend their whole adolescence playing pranks as a team. Pranks that mostly had their little sister as the object. 

_Uh-oh._

Amity starts chanting under her breath. “Please don’t make my wedding into a show, please don’t make my wedding into a show, please d—”

The lights go on brightly in a sudden magical eruption — and they are purple. While the audience is totally blinded, an amplified male voice resonates from the ceiling and the walls. “AND NOW! THE MOMENT YOU’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR!”

Amity sighs. _They made my wedding into a show._

A female voice joins in. “SETTING ALL THE— ED, CAN YOU LOWER THE VOLUME A BIT?”

The audience blinks, adjusting to the now-dimmer lighting and looking amongst themselves at the exceptionally loud whisper. Next to Amity, Luz can’t gold in a giggle. _Hold. Why did I think ‘gold’?_ Then Luz looks at Amity with all the love of the world, and Amity understands why. 

Emira’s voice proceeds from the background — albeit quieter. “Setting all the mushy lovelorn looks aside—”

“Moving past all the crying and the vows—” Edric’s voice joins in.

“I’m gonna kill them,” Amity whispers, burying her head in her forearms, feeling her wife’s hand on her back. _Squee! My wife!_ “I’m gonna murder my siblings and go to jail with no regrets.”

“We’re ready to present to you The—!”

“Greatest—!”

“Show!”

In a puff of smoke, the twins appear on the stage, wearing matching green tuxedos and top hats, Emira holding a cane while Edric has settled for something more contemporary — a human selfie stick.

Amity can hear Luz whispering next to her, “No, bro… A selfie stick? You were supposed to be the chosen one…”

_Must be another obscure human reference._

“You all know and love us!” Amity’s brother announces, and Amity can and will question this statement. At least the latter part.

“Because we are the famous Blights! Edric!” Emira points to her brother with an exaggerated gesture.

“Emira!” Edric points back in a manner that’s somehow even more exaggerated. “And together we are—”

— “The Blight Twins!”

— “Edmira!” 

The whole hall is silent, and, at once, there is an uproar from the usually quiet and reserved Jerbo. “You go, Ed! Good job, sunshine! That’s my husband!” The professor turns around proudly, and no one dares challenge him.

“Um, love?” Edric whispers loudly, the spell still amplifying his voice. “When we were talking about being more supportive, that’s not quite what I meant.”

“Edmira? Seriously?” Emira blinks at her brother, perfectly aware that everyone can hear them. “We really have to get more in sync.”

“Please don’t,” Amity begs under her breath, clutching a fork. “If you get even more in sync, I’m gonna go insane.”

Taking in her wife’s discontent, Luz ( _my wife! My lovely unbelievable wife!_ ) leans in, lips slightly parted, and her hot breath is dripping on Amity’s ears. “Mmmm, love, don’t worry, let me get your mind off this.”

“W-wha…” 

Luz leans further, precariously close to Amity’s ear, which starts twitching ever so slightly. “I made a whole chart devoted to our first night as a married couple.”

Amity is preparing to experience the side-effects of The Curse Of The Flustered Mess, but, surprisingly, the only effects she’s going through have nothing to do with her being cursed. Actually, the effects are altogether pleasant and perhaps not very fitting for a public place.

“And,” Luz delivers the finishing touch, “it involves the double-illusion spell.”

Amity cannot care about being in a public place anymore. “Can we just kick everyone out so you can sex me right on this table?”

“It would be unfair,” Luz admits, straightening her back. “After all they paid for the tickets.”

“What?” Amity Noceda’s mind ( _squee I’m a Noceda!_ ) is so far down in the gutter that she fails to register pretty much anything around her except for Luz’s mesmerising appearance, the suit she wants to tear off and the lips she wants to kiss until they feel numb.

 _Wow, I really am thirsty._ Amity takes a sip of the dubious juice she received on the entrance — which is, as expected, as cheap as money can buy. _Titan, Em is so stingy._

“Well, Emira said,” Luz quotes to solidify that belief, “that in this horrible economy guests are expected to pay the basic price to ensure everyone’s perfect experience.”

“What does that even—”

“I wouldn’t know,” Luz chuckles lightly, her eyes still as dreamy as the whole day when she looks at her wife. ( _I! Am! Her! Wife!_ ) “I mean, I’m a published author, and my vocabulary’s still too limited to understand everything Emira says when money’s on the table.”

Amity wants to say that, if money were on the table, Emira would immediately grab it off the table and put it on a three-year deposit, but instead, she says, “She’s a trillionaire, for Titan’s sake. I’ll make her refund the money.”

Meanwhile, the trillionaire Emira is finished with whatever announcement she’s made (involving copious amounts of cheap alcohol, no doubt), and the hall erupts into rhythmic, controlled applause as champagne flutes appear on every table in front of each attendee, followed by some yet-empty plates.

As expected, every flute is filled to the brim with the cheapest champagne Emira could possibly find. ( _Honestly, Em is just being unnecessarily tight-fisted at this point._ ) Except Edric’s glass, which is filled with cocoa. _Of course._

“And now!” Edric grins, looking over the room from the stage, the champagne flute (cocoa flute) in hand. “As I solemnly promised Mittens eight years ago, now, at her wedding, I am going to tell everyone how she fainted when Luz kissed her for the first time.”

Amity roars, grabbing a plate to launch at her brother, and Luz stops her, grinning. _How can she still be so cheerful and not embarrassed?_ Amity marvels at her girlfr— _wife_ , at her _wife_. All these years, and she is still fascinated by Luz. And she knows this marriage _will_ work — because this constant revelation, this everyday blessing of being with Luz is more than she could ever dream of.

“A question from the crowd,” Gus’s voice resonates across the room. “Did she faint _after_ the kiss — which is socially acceptable — or..?”

Edric points at the younger illusionist. “Good question, my young colleague. No, to my knowledge, she fainted _during_ the kiss.”

And the plate flies with precision.

_______________

“Can we go home already?” Amity whispers, shifting from foot to foot. 

When talking about weddings, everyone (especially Edric and Emira) would always stress how nice you feel inside, tell you about the intensity of emotions before the ceremony, explain in detail how everything fades when you’re at the altar with your fiancée or fiancé… 

But no one, positively no one ever told Amity that wedding shoes are the epitome of discomfort. All she wants right now is to be in her lovely apartment with her lovely wife, kicking off those shoes and changing into slippers and something severely oversized. And making sweet sweet love to Luz all night long.

 _Okay, better not to overestimate myself._ With all this pressure and exhaustion, ‘all night long’ might well turn out to be a couple of hours.

_In her mind appears a tiny couch inside a tiny room with a tiny Amity on the couch, sighing dramatically. Another tiny Amity is sitting in a chair next to the couch, taking notes on a scrollbook._

_“So, when did these pathologic lies begin to surface for the first time?” the tiny Amity in the chair wonders, chewing on the edge of her quill._

_“Ah, doc, whatever are you talking about?” The tiny Amity on the couch shifts to the side, oblivious to the comfort of the room around her, a clear intention to suffer easily readable in her whole body language._

_“Well, you see...” the tiny doctor Amity scrutinises the page. “I know for a fact that if you last more than 20 minutes in bed, that’s a lucky night.”_

_The tiny patient Amity jerks up on the sofa, horror inscribed on her face. “How do you—?”_

_The tiny doctor just hangs her head for a second in remorse. “We’re part of the same conscience so I can only conclude your density cannot be cured. But hey,” she brightens up, “our wife is just as dense and she’s not exactly a marathon runner in bed either so it works out!”_

“Wait just a little, it’s free mingling time,” Luz puts an interruption into her wife’s insanity. 

“Nothing free about this mingling~” Emira’s sing-song voice comes from behind and Amity wants to strike her in the face and pretend it was because of surprise, but the older Blight has already wrapped her arms around the two newlyweds. “It’s _all_ paid for! Well, no one wanted to pay extra to talk to the newlyweds, so I guess everyone’s just mingling among themselves!”

“I can’t believe you would charge for that,” Amity hisses, a fake smile plastered on her face as people she barely knows pass by in the direction of nearby snacks. “It’s my _wedding_!”

“Yes,” Emira spits through a fake smile of the same variety, nodding at some rich-looking people, “And you two are the Isles’ most well-known couple, so it would be a _sin_ not to charge for tickets.”

“At least our friends got in free,” Luz tries to play Emira’s advocate, knowing that Amity cannot possibly be mad at her wife. “I mean, that’s gotta amount to something?”

“Yes,” Emira nods, “It amounts to about ten thousand snails worth of tickets. You guys have a lot of friends with free passes.”

Amity Noceda merely rolls her eyes. ( _I’m a Noceda, I’m a Noceda, I’m a Noceda! Squee~_ ) 

Then, with a swift motion, she draws a magic circle in the air. “Hello, everyone! My name’s Amity Noceda, and as my wedding present, my lovely sister Emira will be refunding everyone for their tickets with a hundred snails extra because she’s kind and generous like that!”

Basking in the horror on her sister’s face, Amity smirks. “I know enough Illusion magic to amplify my voice enough for _everyone_ to hear.”

Out of nowhere (as usual), Edric appears, hair dishevelled (as usual), cradling seventeen juice boxes in his embrace like babies. ( _Fewer than usual._ )

“Does that mean I have to return these too?!”

Amity blinks. Then Emira blinks. Then Luz blinks, setting some sort of a blink-wave among them. 

“No, Edric, you can keep them,” Amity says finally, without even considering the question. 

The green-haired man seems relieved beyond belief. “Thank _Titan_.”

“Can we go home now, Luz? Pleeeease?” Amity resorts to whining, which she doesn’t usually do, and liberates herself from her sister’s unwanted grip. 

“Oooooh, someone’s eager!” Edric teases, but ceases his antics upon Amity’s practised dagger-look.

Instead, Edric exchanges a look with Emira (a _Look_ , which is the sibling version of highest conspiracy) and his expression falls into a well-practised solemn gravity. “Luz, I have something to ask of you, regarding my sister.”

“Sure, bro, what’s up?” Luz is ever so cheerful and trusting, and doesn’t even pay heed to Amity’s gestures that clearly say _No, don’t feed their pranking with blissful ignorance!_

Edric suddenly sniffs, wiping away stray tears, which may or may not be ( _they are_ ) fake. “Please keep her safe and hydrated.”

Luz blinks. “Hydrated?”

The twins nod solemnly in unison — something that Amity usually finds way too annoying. But today she finds it a bit more bearable, because she is Amity Noceda, and she has _a wife_.

“Of course,” Edric’s voice falters. “Every time Mittens is with you—”

“—she needs additional hydration,” Emira finishes for him, stepping in to linger next to her twin.

Both twins suddenly grin and speak simultaneously: “‘Cause when she’s around you, Luz, Mittens is one _thirsty witch_.”

Amity’s eye twitches. “If I kill them right now, surely the Grand Witch Jury will understand and exempt me?” she whispers, disregarding the numerous witnesses mingling around her.

She hears Lilith sigh to her left as the Empress is watching Eda assist King in fighting some children for cake. “I wish, Amity. I wish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, this note is unusually lengthy, but I’ll appreciate it if you can read it. Thanks~!
> 
> Again, I am sorry for taking so long with this chapter! I have had to go through some unpleasant health-related and family-related issues in real life, so I couldn’t focus on writing comedy. But I seem to be back on track (hopefully), so there’s one more chapter to go!
> 
> Meanwhile, I was wondering if maybe you would be interested in another story of mine — which I have just started and posted the first chapter of. It’s called The Blight Twins and The Curse Of The Flustered Mess, and you can find it on my profile, dekompensation, I only have two stories and both are TOH.
> 
> The story is set in the same setting (nope, that’s not a lexical repetition), that is:  
> — Emira and Edric get rich after their parents go to jail  
> — Viney is a doctor and Jerbo is a scientist  
> — Emira is whipped and Edric is clingy (which Viney and Jerbo adore)  
> — The Twins also have the Curse  
> — Edric’s sense of fashion is, um… Uh, we still love Edric, right?  
> — There’s only one sofa  
> — But then again, what can Emira do in this horrible economy?
> 
> However, apart from the little references and inside-jokes, the story can be read as a completely separate piece. It’s also a comedy and focuses more on the Blight Twins and their respective relationships. Hopefully, the characters are a bit more fleshed-out and less two-dimensional. I mean, Edric actually has feelings. And so does Emira! It’s set earlier than this story, and again, I would like to stress the two aren’t exactly a tie-in, but rather an exploration of the same concept from an Emira/Viney & Edric/Jerbo viewpoint, rather than Lumity. 
> 
> Sorry if it sounds like a shameless piece of self-promotion, but I figured that since it’s the same style and setting, you guys might be interested. By the way, The Blight Twins and The Curse of the Flustered Mess will have much shorter chapters (usually between 1 and 2 k words), so it should mean more frequent updates.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this lengthy note and the fic. Thank you for your kudos — it’s humbling to see this story get some recognition, and it makes me gleeful and even more intent to improve my writing. And a special thank-you to every single person who has left their comments — I read and reply to every single one.
> 
> Thank you!


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amity Noceda is finally ready to enjoy her honeymoon with Luz. After all, the two of them deserve a quiet, peaceful happily-ever-after. Unfortunately, the Universe thinks otherwise. Luz tries to flirt, the Twins try to negotiate, and Amity tries to keep her murderous urges at bay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… Um, remember when I said two chapters ago the next chapter was gonna take a while? Apparently, I was talking about this one. Sorry for the wait and thank you all for sticking with me for this story — there are some afterword-comments in the end note if you have the time to read them. <3

Most resorts boast ‘privacy and security’. 

In fact, it would be very weird to boast otherwise. Technically, there might well be a resort that claims ‘you will spend your vacation with people watching your every move’ or ‘the police don’t go near the area so have a complimentary shotgun’. And, if this resort actually paid guests for staying there, it might even have clientele. Most likely, Emira would be a regular.

But this resort takes privacy and security above and beyond. To begin with, Amity and Luz are held up at the entrance because the security has to triple check-them against the guest list. And then call the reception desk. Who, in turn, call the reservations. Who — twenty minutes later — finally inform the security to let the newlyweds in because there is ‘a minor issue’ with the reservation.

Naturally, Amity is adamant that if there is an issue, no matter how minor it is, the whole damn resort is going to have a major issue with her. That is, her burning down the resort. And, while inter-dimensional agreements prohibit the use of magic, Amity is ready to get in trouble with the law if it means defending the honour of the Noceda name, which she is intent on bearing with pride.

Just in case anyone’s still thinking Amity is sweet and nice, she’s gonna show them she is _not_ nice to anyone but her wife. And maybe Jerbo and Viney. And sometimes her siblings. On very, very rare occasions. Puddles, Viney’s griffin, is a sweetheart, though. And Barcus is nice. Willow and Gus are fine too. And the nice boy at the coffeshop near their apartment. And his three boyfriends who are also very nice to her and Luz. And any stray animal that Luz can find.

But everyone else will feel her wrath.

After she finishes the complimentary orange juice, which is just so nice and fruity. Or maybe it’s just the feeling of being driven through an enormous property in a tiny golf cart with her wife pressed firmly into her side.

Who would have thought that out of all the things to fear in the world Luz the fearless human would be scared of golf carts?

“These things are freaky,” Luz says, stepping off the peacefully slow cart and walking into the lobby and can she get any more adorable?

“Hi!” Amity greets the receptionist with fake enthusiasm — something that she had to learn way too early. “I’m Amity Noceda, and I have a reservation for the Royal Super-Mega-Penta-Presidential Suite?”

_What a ridiculous name._

The receptionist looks bored, almost apathetic, unapologetically clicking the keyboard. “Yeah, sorry, ma’am, unfortunately, the Royal Super-Mega-Penta-Presidential Suite is unavailable for this weekend.”

Amity feels the little seeds of rage in her mind giving off little shoots. “What do you mean, the Royal Super-Mega— What do you mean the suite is unavailable?”

“We booked in advance,” Luz tries her human way — a smile and pleading eyes. “Surely there must be a mistake.”

The girl at the desk does not seem amused in the slightest, giving the keyboard a lazy tap. “Yeah, um, sorry, Miss Noceda, unfortunately the suite was booked at the last minute by a very high-powered party.”

“Oh…” Luz looks down in misery, and Amity is ready for murder. Because _no one_ makes her wife miserable. Well, okay, sometimes _she_ makes Luz miserable with her stupidity, but she pays the price every time and tries to become better for it. 

And then Luz tries another one of her human ways.

“Well, I know for a fact you have an extra suite just for such occasions…” Luz drawls in an unfamiliar accent that strangely resembles the receptionist’s accent. “I was wondering if such a beautiful gal as you might see what she can do… and _I’ll_ see what _I_ can do…”

Looking at the scene, Amity feels heat in all the wrong places. _Is Luz… flirting with the receptionist?_ Seeing her wife flirting with some random girl should be pretty offensive to Amity. Absolutely. _Then why does it seem so cute and sexy?_

Meanwhile, Luz winks at Amity, showing that it’s all fake — just a charade to get them a suite. 

_Very good_ , Amity thinks, _because no one wants a threesome right after they get married. Or, or ever. Ever._

“Sorry, ma’am,” the blonde girl replies without even checking the computer. “That one’s taken too. And, uh, I’m taken as well. Sorry. Also I’m straighter than our pastor.”

“Oh.” Luz actually blushes, called out like that. Amity loves her more than anything at this moment.

“Our pastor is very gay, she’s married to a local non-binary LGBT activist,” the receptionist girl explains. “I mean, pretty much _anyone_ is straighter than her. We’re post-Lutheran,” she adds, as if it can explain anything.

Well, definitely not to Amity. The only thing she has learned from this unnecessary information is that Luz’s human ways did not work, so she has to try her witch ways.

“I’m the richest person in the Boiling Isles, and I will turn you into a frog.” Amity leans over the counter.

“Is that supposed to scare me?” The apathetic blonde shows something resembling emotion. “I have seen enough witches to know them all.”

Before Amity can commit the first inter-dimensional murder, adding to her already-existing record of inter-dimensional assault (the guy at Subway _was_ flirting with her girlfriend when he offered her a ‘footlong’ and no one can tell Amity otherwise), Luz drags her away.

“All right,” Luz concludes cheerfully, which usually calms her wife down a bit. Usually. “I guess we’ll just need to find a way to—”

“Beat her face in without anyone figuring out?” Amity nods. “Good plan, I’m working on that.”

“Um, Ames, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“You’re right,” Amity agrees once again. “I should just incinerate her.”

Luz blinks at her wife. Twice. “Somehow I’m glad magic is prohibited in the human world.”

Amity begs to differ. She can imagine herself standing over the cowering hotel employees with fire on her hands, screaming, _Where is your security now, huh?_

“Well, we could still have our honeymoon on the Boiling Isles?” Luz suggests sheepishly, knowing very well just how confrontational her wife can be.

“Um, no. The most romantic getaway is literally called _The Pit of Pain_.”

“Ah, yes.” Luz nods with a nostalgic smile. “Good times.”

Once again, Amity begs to differ, but now is not the time to dwell on a wonderful-slash-disastrous date from years ago.

“What do humans usually do when situations like this arise?” the green-haired witch asks instead.

“Well, in the States we call the manager, but in my Mom’s culture that’s considered indirect confrontation, so—” 

“I would like to speak to the manager.” Amity is already back with the receptionist. “Alternatively, I’ll wait until the end of your shift, transport you to the Boiling Isles and murder you in every possible way.”

The girl opens her mouth, but Amity’s eyes could glare daggers. (And stab the stupid blonde.)

“Every. Possible. Way.”

So the post-Lutheran receptionist ( _Whatever that means_ ) picks up the phone and asks for the manager. Urgently.

A plump, tall, oily man bounces down the stairs cheerfully and approaches the couple. “Hello! My name is—”

“I don’t care,” Amity hisses, while Luz is dying from second-hand embarrassment. ‘ _Non-confrontational’ my ass. If these bastards ruin my sweet Luz’s honeymoon, they WILL suffer._ “We booked your whatever-coolest-suite for our honeymoon, and Miss Apathy here tells us it’s unavailable.”

“Actually,” the receptionist mumbles, “my apathy is a mere facade that hides my insecurity and the horrifying understanding that I’ll never apply my education and be stuck doing random jobs, giving me no security and endangering my family because of lack of financial support — not to mention the crippling realisation that I will never be able who I truly want to be, and history is only written by achievers, while my own achievements are bound to be buried under the greatness and luck of those who were more successful.”

“Um.” The manager wipes sweat off his brow with a paper towel. “What’s your name again?”

“Noceda.” For some reason, now Amity feels legitimately bad for the receptionist. And legitimately curious about that flirting thing Luz was doing with her. “Amity Noceda.”

“Okay, um…” The guy checks his tablet and smiles nervously. “You see, there is a problem—” 

_YOU are a problem_ , Amity thinks, but decides to give these humans one last chance. “Okay, look, I used to be a Blight, don’t you have a reservation under the name ‘Blight’? Maybe the paperwork didn’t come through or there was an error in the system or whatever excuses you hotel guys usually use.”

“Oh yes, we do have two reservations under the name Blight—”

“Great!” Amity exclaims, looking victoriously at Luz, who seems like she’d rather be anywhere else but here. But, then again, Luz must be used to her girlfriend’s more… protective side by now.

“—but, um, neither of them are for _Amity_ Blight.”

Amity blinks. Luz blinks. Then Luz smiles. And grins. And snorts.

And Amity understands. “You must be kidding me.”

“There is one for Edric Blight and Jerbo Blight, and the other one is for Emira Blight and Viney Blight. Perhaps if they are your relatives—”

“Not anymore,” Amity hisses. “Look, is there someone I can talk to about this?”

“Sorry,” the manager sounds apologetic enough, “we’re under new management, because the hotel was bought out just a week ago…” He checks something on his tablet. “Oh, yes, the new owner just arrived today! I haven’t met her yet but—”

“Call her or I swear to Titan—”

“She is actually going to be in the lobby in just a few minutes to check on the reception desk!” The plump gentleman seems happy to be out of the picture for now. “Hope you can redirect any requests to Miss… Um, whatever her name is, I haven’t met her yet.”

Amity merely grunts and steps aside, fuming. So far, this has been the worst start of a honeymoon in the history of starts and honeymoons.

And, at once, Luz’s skilful lips on her neck fix everything. “Sorry, love,” Luz whispers. “You know I don’t really like picking fights—” 

Amity snorts, thinking back to every single fight Luz has picked. _Yeah right._

“—unless absolutely necessary,” Luz finishes with a frown. “And while I love that you always defend me, please, let’s just try not to get in trouble? For once?”

“Okay,” Amity mumbles because Luz’s fingers are tracing the back of her head, and Luz’s lips are, again, tracing the side of her neck.

“God, you guys are both so hot,” the receptionist’s voice reaches their ears. “Not that I’m gay or anything but I would literally do you both if you had, you know, a bed. Which you don’t.”

“Did you actually try to flirt with her?” Amity asks, blushing.

“Haaa…” Luz is blushing as well. “No, uh, of course not. Haha.”

“Yes, threesomes are the worst, right?” Amity laughs a very fake laugh.

“Absolutely,” Luz agrees with the fakest grin imaginable.

“No doubt here!” the receptionist calls out.

“Oh, hi Mittens!”

Amity turns with the deliberate slowness of a sniper preparing her shot. And, indeed, the four Blights come waltzing into the lobby, stupid Blight grins plastered on their stupid Blight faces, while she, a noble Noceda, has to wait in the lobby like some lowly commoner.

Emira joins her brother’s greeting. “Fancy seeing you—”

“Prepare to die.”

Only Luz’s weak nerd arms are strong enough to hold Amity while she tries to launch at her sister like a growling demon. The scary kind, not the cute kind. Even though Luz, obviously, has a different opinion.

“—at my new hotel,” Emira finishes, unperturbed by her sister’s — very common — behaviour.

“ _You_ are the new owner?” Luz exclaims, a smile making its way on the cheerful human’s face. “Ames, we’re saved!”

 _We’re doomed_ , Amity thinks at the same time, but knows better than to interrupt her lovely wife, when the lovely wife in question is being all wonderful and cute and happy.

Instead, she turns towards the heavily blushing receptionist — which is funny because the totally-apathetic girl has just turned into a gushing mess. 

“Y-you’re the owner? _You’re_ Miss Blight?” the post-Lutheran girl ( _I’ll need to figure it out_ ) whispers on top of her voice — if it were even possible — and blushes. 

“Yep, cutie~” Emira winks at her, and Amity learns that the Beetroots have apparently moved over to the human realm, because the receptionist is, no doubt, a Beetroot, what with that colour.

The receptionist starts gushing, her voice trembling. “The richest person in the Universe? The strongest, most independent female entrepreneur—”

“Yeeeah,” Viney drawls, eyeing Emira up and down lovingly. “The strongest, most independent female entrepreneur who can’t change a lightbulb.”

The tall green-haired witch groans in exasperation, not even looking at her wife. “I _told_ you a million times: it’s not one of life’s essential skills.”

“Uh,” Jerbo lifts his index finger. “Pretty sure it is.”

“Yeah,” Edric agrees, his arm wrapped around Jerbo’s shoulders. “Even _I_ can change a lightbulb. I mean, Jerbo is the one who usually does it, but I know how to do it. In theory.” 

“Didn’t you get our names when you were checking us in?” Emira diverts her attention to the receptionist girl, who is still staring at Emira in awe.

“I, uh, didn’t put the Blight together with the Blight. I’m sorry!” the girl sputters, looking at Viney in fear. 

Which is probably warranted, since everyone can see how enamoured she is with Viney’s wife. _And probably every single girl that passes by. She is, indeed, very straight._

“I thought maybe you were a different Blight. There are so many Blights!” The receptionist is showing all the finest — and familiar — signs of the Curse of the Flustered Mess. “Are all the Blights _this_ sexy?”

“You bet!” Edric proclaims proudly. “Except my husband. He’s only sexy to me. If you make him embarrassed or offended by saying something dirty, I will murder you.”

Jerbo mutters something under his breath and looks away, obviously not used to Ed being this overprotective. Indeed, Amity notes, usually the dynamic is the exact opposite.

“Well, technically speaking, Amity, our little sister, is the richest person in the Universe,” Emira decides to address the only neutral point.

“Yes, I’m the richest,” Amity grunts in agreement and drags Luz by the waist towards her. _If I’m being a douchenozzle, better be a douchenozzle all the way. ...Is this seriously what life has taught me?_ “And this is my wife. And we are on a honeymoon. So you can’t have a threesome with us!”

“I wasn’t thinking about a threesome!” the receptionist shrieks in defence, her Beetroot face wrapped in denial.

“Good!” Luz sputters next to her douchey wife, whom she is still clinging to. “Because _no one_ was thinking about a threesome!”

“So... where’s the manager?” Emira drawls to break the uneasy silence that falls upon the lobby, what with no other guests entering or leaving.

The apathy is back on the girl’s face. “Oh, I think when he saw you and realised you’re the owner, he screamed ‘I’m doomed, I’m doomed’ and ran away.”

“Ah,” Emira nods with understanding. “Yes, that happens fairly often.”

“You owe me a room, Em.” Amity is standing there, cross-armed, as if she’s fourteen again, and Emira is praying a prank on her. “Luz and I booked the Super-whatever-suite for our honeymoon so it’s unfair that you would snatch it away.”

“Yes…” Emira sighs. “We’ll probably have to give you one of the two suites… Ours needs cleaning though. Like _a lot_ of cleaning. Viney and I got really frisky and—” 

“Yeah, we, uh, you know what, we’d better just send Cleaning & Maintenance there.” Viney is particularly blushy and Amity does _not_ want to know _anything_. “Our room, uh, does need some extra cleaning before Luz and Amity can move in.” _Anything._

“Well, we can take Edric and Jerbo’s room instead?” Luz suggests, smirking at her ‘bro’ with mischief. 

Amity scrunches her nose, imagining that Edric’s room would be way more disgusting than Emira’s… But then again, it is also Jerbo’s room, which means the smart witch organised everything and cleaned everything and, well, Jerbo is the only person who makes up the bed in the morning even if he’s staying at a hotel.

Maybe, just maybe, Edric’s room will not require that much maintenance, just a change of sheets and towels.

“B-but I paid for the hotel…” Jerbo whimpers, looking at Luz with a betrayed expression. “And I wanted to make my husband happy…”

Observing Amity’s facial cues, Edric whispers to Jerbo: “Do you want a happy husband or a living one?”

“Yes, sorry, since I’m the owner, I have to _personally_ inspect the Royal Super-Mega-Penta—” Emira pauses. “Uh, we’ll change the name of the suite.”

“Can’t you inspect, like, the cheapest single room?” Edric mumbles, defeated at the prospect of having to leave the ridiculously-named suite. “Or, you know, a ditch that surrounds the area?”

“Thank you, Ed, I love you too~” Emira sing-songs, grabbing Viney’s hand to waltz her life to the suite.

“I can’t wait until you two have a daughter and I can corrupt her with how awesome I am and how boring you are,” Edric grunts, glaring at the Nocedas. “Then, I will have my revenge.”

Amity can envision it perfectly: 

_Azura Noceda, the rebellious teenage daughter, is sitting cross-armed on a sofa (one of the numerous sofas in the household), huffing at her parents in the most dismissive way possible._

_“And why can’t I eat cheerio-s with chocomil from a soup mug?”_

_“Because it makes you a slob!” Amity explains in despair, trying to unsee that her daughter is wearing oversized crocs on top of thick woollen socks. Inside the house where they all reside. (Inside the universe where common sense is supposed to reside.)_

_“So what?” Azura huffs, using her magic to summon a selfie stick to scratch her back. “Uncle Edric taught me that I’m perfect the way I am. And showed me the beauty of nonconformity.”_

_“Uncle Edric is a slob,” Luz interrupts, “and will forever remain a slob. And he’s been my bro for eternity, so I know what I’m talking about.”_  
 _  
__Amity does not mention that he’s been_ her _bro for way longer than that. But yes, Uncle Edric is, indeed, a filthy slob with no sense of fashion — or decency, for that matter._

_“But Uncle Edric is so cool!” Azura laments, pointing at her mothers. “And you two are so lame!”_

_Well,_ Amity concedes, _at least I don’t have tiny versions of myself running around in my mind anymore._

“We’re gonna give you our room,” Viney says suddenly, showing no intention to get waltzed-around by her wife. “Edric and Jerbo stay in their suite.”

“B-but…” Emira starts battering her eyelashes, but everyone knows (Emira better than anyone) that if Viney is intent on something, she gets it. 

After all, Viney and Jerbo wear the pants in their respective relationships. _No, seriously, Em and Ed have too much of a preference for dresses. Well, Ed has too much of a preference for wearing anything that is NOT clothing._

“Sorry, love, but Jerbo is my best friend and he did pay for the experience. Let’s just get the lower suite.”

Emira doesn’t even argue, casting a side glare to Jerbo, Edric, and Amity at the same time ( _How does Luz always escape her glares?_ ) and giving a nod to the once-again-blushing receptionist, who immediately starts amending the reservations.

“And send like five maintenance teams there,” the green-haired witch grumbles, glaring at her brother again, who is celebrating by lifting Jerbo and cradling him in his arms.

Which is adorable, and Amity would love to feel adorable, but she is still fuming. “Look, all of this could have been avoided,” she begins, trying not to ruin the favourable outcome by being too stern or pissy, “if maybe you guys asked us where we were going for the honeymoon?”

“Um, we didn’t?” Jerbo blinks from Edric’s embrace.

Luz steps in with a grin. “Well, when I called Ed to tell him about it, we got too invested in discussing what grapefruit flavour is the best, so I kind of forgot to tell him.”

“It’s… grapefruit. It literally has one flavour — the _grapefruit_ flavour,” Jerbo whispers, eyeing his husband in what seems like disbelief — even though after all these years he should probably be used to Ed being Ed.

“I wanted to tell Emira but she was too busy choosing our wedding present,” Amity says, gazing at the lobby bar longingly. _It’s only afternoon, and it’s already been a long day._ “I didn’t want to interrupt her because she was, you know, choosing our wedding present.”

The lobby bar looks very, very appealing now, what with the whole morning-and-afternoon. Amity had to take a plane. Amity is mortified by planes. Why can’t there just be interdimensional portals in every town, Amity will never know. 

And now the bar stools in the lobby wink at Amity with their purple plush, and the bar counter’s green shine is particularly inviting, and all the bottles behind it are just staring at Amity to drink them all. And Amity drinks, like, once a year.

Following her wife’s gaze, Luz, her wonderful Luz, comes to the rescue. “Jerbo looks like he needs a drink.”

“I always look like I need a drink.” Jerbo doesn’t seem to be getting the idea. “I live with Edric.”

“I’ve lived with Edric longer than you have,” Emira counters, leading her wife by the elbow towards the bar area, the shining tiles on the floor not exactly fit for her very slippery high-heels. 

_Titan, Emira really went all-out on this evening dress attire, while Viney is just wearing a normal T-shirt and pants. Like, you know, anyone who comes to a freaking vacation._

“You didn’t have to share a bedroom with him,” Jerbo responds, following the Blights ( _and the Nocedas squee I’m a Noceda_ ) in his polo shirt and yachting jacket. _Jerbo and yachting are as incompatible as Edric and dairy. ...Which he still keeps eating, so, uh, whatever, I guess._

“Guys, I’m right here just so you know,” Edric mumbles, in the back, his flip-flops creaking squeakily on the tiles, while the party in the front are already occupying the (very fancy) bar stools.

“We know,” everyone responds in almost perfect unison. 

_Sometimes I’m proud of this family_ , Amity thinks as Emira picks up everyone’s orders, on the house: a gin-and-tonic for herself, a raspberry mojito for Jerbo, apple ciders for the newlyweds, and a cherry cider for Viney. And a cold cocoa with marshmallows for Edric. _My brother, ever the social embarrassment._

“Come on, let’s be nice to Edric,” Luz urges, drinking her cider directly from the bottle. “He might be a bit over-the-top, but we all love him, right?”

“Of course I love him,” Jerbo responds immediately, placing his hand on his husband’s elbow, kissing the green-haired man’s neck. “That’s why I married him, and every day with Ed is a blessing.”

 _A blessing in disguise, I’m sure_ , Amity thinks, but puts the glass against her lips so that words don’t escape her tongue. Besides, she does love Edric, and she always has. Well, maybe not always, but, like, ninety-five percent of the time.

“Aww, I love my big goofy brother,” Emira reaches over to ruffle Edric’s hair, almost knocking over her glass. “Always standing up for me and Mittens.”

“I love Ed too,” Viney confirms, raising her bottle to the blushing Blight, who is obviously not used to this much affection. _Which, actually, is a pretty sombre thought. We need to show affection to Ed more often._ “That’s the reason I set him up with Jerbo.”

“You didn’t set me up with Edric,” Jerbo retorts, “we started dating on our own.”

“You were two pining idiots who were sure that ‘he doesn’t like me that way’,” Viney mocks in a very good impression that’s somehow both Edric and Jerbo, “until auntie Viney stepped in and fixed it.”

“I’m the same age as you,” Jerbo mutters, blushing at Edric as if he’s once again a seventeen-year-old who’s overflowing with young love.

Actually, Amity notes with warm pleasure, Jerbo and Edric still have that young love in them, and so do Emira and Viney. Years of marriage have not washed it away, which means that she and Luz will remain just as enthusiastic for each other, just as enamoured with each other, for ever and ever. 

“Edric is my bro, so of course I love him,” Luz’s voice breaks the tiny silence. “Besides, I was the one who started the Edric Appreciation Society on Penstagram.”

“Aww, bro, thank you!”

“No problem, bro, you’re the best.”

Amity rolls her eyes as her wife fistbumps her brother, but still decides to join in, her irritation washed away by the sweet low-alcohol cider and even sweeter family bonding. _Mostly the cider, though._

“Thanks to Edric, Luz and I are still together,” Amity says suddenly, and while she would want to claim that it’s just the cider talking, unfortunately they’re in the human realm, where liquids don’t possess the ability to speak.

“Yes, Edric, you’re the one who always taught me to be amicable, and you’re the one whose jokes always break any ice, and your advice helped me and Luz fall in love with our apartment and build it as an extension of our home.” 

Wow. Surely it must be the cider speaking, because Amity can’t be speaking this earnestly and nicely some half an hour after her bouts of anger with the frisky receptionist and the mumbling manager and everything.

Edric’s bottom lip starts quivering, which is a sure sign of him soon erupting into a waterfall of tears. And sure, the waterworks begin at once and Edric gets up, practically throwing himself onto his little sister.

Amity grunts, but embraces her brother with a tiny smile. “You’ve always been the most expressive out of all of us, haven’t you?”

“You’re my favourite sister,” Edric says with a sniff as he raises his head.

“Hey!” Emira’s protest goes to waste, because Edric is already back on his stool, hugging Jerbo.

 _Apparently, all that hugging energy just needs to find an outlet._ Even so, Jerbo seems perfectly content to be just such an outlet.

“And,” Edric raises his finger from behind Jerbo’s body around him, “as a matter of fact, _I_ was the one who gave Emira the idea for your wedding present.”

Amity chuckles and looks adoringly at Luz, who is trying to drink the cider from the bottle with a straw. Which is her third straw, because the other ones have already drowned. “What is it anyway?” 

Edric straightens his back, exchanging a knowing twin-look with Emira. “Our wedding present for you guys is…”

Whatever the twins are gonna say right now, Amity is not gonna care. Because, as much as she likes presents, the only present she really needs right now is some time alone with her wife. Some peaceful sinking in a pool and ordering margaritas just to eat the olives. Taking everything on the breakfast buffet just to complain about the selection. The kind of things she and Luz can enjoy together, their sort of humour and their kind of a good time.

And Amity will forgive her siblings — has already forgiven them — even though ruining Amity’s honeymoon is an offense of such depravity that its gravity can only be compared to listening to music loudly in an art gallery. While eating fast-food with your hands. And dropping crumbs everywhere.

“A new sofa!” the Twins announce in unison in their horrific in-sync manner.

Amity is lost. “Our apartment is _packed_ with sofas.” _I’m definitely compensating here._ Luz actually had to threaten to throw away Amity’s first chart framed on the wall if she, Amity, were to sneak yet another sofa into their living room. _Apparently six is enough._

Emira grins. “No, Mittens. We got a second sofa for _our_ apartment. Specifically for you and Luz. Any time you wanna drop by, you’ll have your own sofa.”

“That…” Amity begins, and Luz casts her a side glance that says, _hey, that’s what you always wanted, haven’t you?_

“That is the most beautiful present anyone has ever given me.” Amity sniffs, feeling gratitude latching onto her throat. “I’m sorry I wanted to murder you guys.”

“It’s okay,” Jerbo nods, wiping his lips with a napkin. “we’re kind of used to it by now.”

“I keep a knife under my pillow just in case I need to defend myself and Emira!” Viney chirps in.

Emira turns towards her way-too-cheerful wife, who’s chugging her cider innocently. “You _what_?”

“I gave you a romantic night of stargazing,” Luz mumbles, pushing the bottle away after the sixth straw collapses inside. _Apparently, that was… the last straw._

“Yes, love.” Amity nods and pats her wife’s hand, “but it’s not a sofa.”

“Well,” Luz shrugs with a tiny devious smile, grabbing yet another straw, “in that case _someone_ is not getting that sexy chart roleplay I prepared for tonight.”

“Oh, the _stargazing_!” Amity sputters, her cheeks betraying some of the old curse. “Yes, love, that was _the best_ present ever, who needs a stupid sofa?”

“Titan, my little sister is stupid, whipped, _and_ a chart-loving pervert,” Edric whispers in dismay, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

Jerbo sighs, motioning first to Edric and then Emira. “Is that _really_ any wonder?”

_______________

The suite is nothing short of gorgeous. Perhaps it does not deserve the ridiculous name, but, with the jacuzzi and the sauna and the private _pool_ the Super-Mega-Whatever title doesn’t seem to be overly inflated.

The second half of the day has been perfect, and not in the least because Edric and Jerbo isolated in their suite, while Emira and Viney left for some networking social gathering, the Blight wearing an even more over-the-top dress than before.

So Amity and Luz were left to themselves (and a dozen other guests) when they explored the closed-off property, picked up a few shells from the beach, and Luz begged Amity to bury her in the sand — which is yet another weird human thing — and Amity obliged and, since no one was looking, cast a tiny levitation spell to bury herself in the sand next to her wife.

They sampled every sort of olives and croutons, and asked for every possible piece of take-out included in the all-inclusive honeymoon package deal. And now, lying next to her wife in the luxurious king-sized bed, Amity realises something about Luz. Luz is Luz. 

Perfect, imperfect, ridiculous, funny, smart, dumb, brave, scared, brash, straightforward, concerned, happy, upset, loving, caring, beautiful Luz.

“You know what?” Amity chuckles, drawing little circles on her wife’s shoulder. “Honestly, I don’t care anymore.”

“Huh?” Luz lifts her head, pushing some crumbs off the blanket. “About the pizza or—”

“Your middle name,” Amity clarifies. _Even though the pizza was pretty gross. Who puts mussels on top of pizza?_

“Now that we’re married, now that I share your last name…” Amity shrugs, pushing Luz with her shoulder accidentally. “Sorry, love. What I mean is, I don’t really care what your middle name is anymore.”

Luz smiles, melting into her wife. Then she laughs, not in the usual Luz Noceda manner, but more of a reserved series of chuckles. Amity Blight — Amity _Noceda_ has rubbed off of her significantly. In more ways than one. 

“Okay,” Luz grins. “Actually, that’s kinda funny, because my middle name is—”

_~The end.~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this story! I can’t thank you enough, and yet I still want to express my gratitude to all of you. Your wonderful, kind comments have kept me up in a pretty rough patch I’ve been going through. I’ve seen all the attention and praise you guys have been giving to the fic, and I knew that I had to finish it, while trying to improve with every chapter
> 
> Now, if you will please give me a few more minutes of your time, I’d like to link my other TOH fics here just in case you’d like to familiarise yourself with them. (There is indeed a special level of hell reserved for people who end fics like that AND immediately jump to self-promotion.)
> 
> ~~~~~
> 
> If you’re interested in how Edric and Emira have been dealing with the Curse while trying to date their respective crushes, Jerbo and Viney, here’s a link to my fic about that (please don’t impale me on a rusty spear for this):
> 
> [The Blight Twins and The Curse Of The Flustered Mess](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28713846/chapters/70399965)
> 
> And I have another serious Edric & Emira & Amity fic, which is titled Thicker Than Magic, with Lumity and Edric/Jerbo and Emira/Viney. I can’t say it has gotten any attention whatsoever, so if you don’t mind more angsty stuff, could you perhaps check it out? Style-wise, I'd say it's an improvement on whatever I've been doing so far. Thanks in advance!
> 
> [Thicker Than Magic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29004018/chapters/71182800)
> 
> In the fic, Edric is actually not Emira and Amity’s brother, but a suitor who has been arranged by Edric’s single father and Emira’s single mother to marry Emira. The problem is, Edric is not attracted to girls, while Emira is not attracted to guys. And neither is happy about arranged marriage. Emira has severe trust issues, and Edric has problems with attachment. Yet, they play along so that they can date their respective crushes. Eventually, they become best friends and grow to consider each other family.
> 
> And, if you would like to read more Lumity, I have another Lumity story:
> 
> [Riposte to Flick to Feint to Lunge](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29197314/chapters/71687235)
> 
> It's a fencing AU, in which Amity and Luz and everyone are humans in the human world. It's a mixture of fluff, mutual pining, and 'oh wow sports'.
> 
> ~~~~~
> 
> Last but not least, one more big thank-you to everyone who has read this story and commented on it! Thank you to everyone who has left their kudos! Thank you, BitSweetChoc, for [your wonderful fan art](https://www.instagram.com/p/CJN0jXMp8JA/) for Chapter 2! Thank you, Nerdylilwriter, Jeremy Band, SonikDC, RainbowBuddy and hyacinth (Lexa_Alycia) for your constant encouragement and regular insight into the story and the characters. And thank you to everyone who has left their comment, kudos, or just took their time to read a chapter or two.
> 
> If you want, you can subscribe to [my profile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dekompensation) (gosh, it’s not Youtube, I know it sounds cringy and vain) for future TOH fics. Thank you, and I’ll see you in other stories!
> 
> — dekompensation
> 
> P.S. If you want a really good Edric & Emira & Amity fic, I highly recommend [‘Outsiders’ by Ocil91](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27110131/chapters/66199603%22). It’s serious, angst-filled, and, compared to my two-dimensional characters, Ocil91’s Ed and Em stretch across, like, seven dimensions. Also the author puts proper focus on Edric and Jerbo’s relationship — something I appreciate and also try to do (albeit without much success) in every TOH fic I write.


End file.
